Episode 13 - Hitched, but not to a star

For two days there was no contact between Cleo and Gary. He was worried about her and talked seriously to Dorothy on the phone. She reassured him that Cleo was trying to be loyal to Robert. Dorothy thought that was why she was marrying him and she definitely had a guilty conscience about Gary.

“What about loyalty to me?“ said Gary.

“I can’t read her mind or change it, Gary, but if I’m not mistaken, it’s love not loyalty that binds you with her and her with you and that is not going to go away whatever happens.”

Gary was not cheered by Dorothy’s comment, but he had plenty to do because the tenant of his flat had done a bunk leaving unpaid rent and a disgusting mess behind a week previously and Gary decided spontaneously not to re-let after the place had been cleaned up by a hired cleaning company. Gary was able to move back into his bachelor flat the day before Cleo’s wedding, glad of the distraction from the case of Anna and the woman identified by Berta as Banu Akbari, not least because he needed Cleo to help him with that case and she had closed her agency and was not working that week. Though there was no indication thereof, Gary was still hoping would not go through with her marriage to Robert.

When he packed his last possessions into the car and presented Dorothy with a bouquet as thanks for letting him stay while he sorted things out, she told him to put a brave face on. Cleo was determined to go through with it, but the marriage would not last, of that Dorothy was certain.

“Cleo loves only you, Gary,” Dorothy assured him yet again. “You’ll have to be content with having an affair with her until she gets her act together and accepts the silliness of marrying a man who is not capable of offering her what she needs.”

“How do you know that, Dorothy?”

“I just know.”

***

Thursday arrived and Robert was anxious to get the ceremony over before Cleo thought better of it, but not too anxious not to pander to his vanity. He was still trying to decide which tie to wear (he had bought 4 new ones) five minutes before the taxi was due to collect them all and fortunately decided on quiet silver rather than one of the other three flamboyant articles. Dorothy arrived at the cottage wearing a grey silk costume and her new frothy hat. It tuned in well with her fly-away grey hair, most of which was as always twisted into a wispy bun at the nape of her neck.

“You look gorgeous, Dorothy,” Robert told her. “I might marry you instead!”

“No thank you,” replied Dorothy. “I have other plans.”

There was an air of pseudo cheeriness about the situation. The atmosphere was heavy with Cleo’s misgivings, despite Dorothy chivvying her along.

They all laughed heartily at the idea of Robert marrying Dorothy. The first sips of champagne were taking effect. So much joviality so early in the morning was welcome. Robert was happy in the company of ‘his’ women. ‘His’ women were less happy.

Gloria arrived just in time to toast what she had decided would be a happy couple. Her outfit was flamboyant and colourful. She was wearing the African national costume she often wore for dancing at jamborees and other festivities, though she had never actually been to the land of her grandfathers and declared that Chicago was African enough for a third generation black woman.

“Don’t wear the turban, Mother,” Cleo decreed.

“Wear it, Mother-in-Law. Let people think I’m marrying a harem. I don’t mind having pretty women around me.”

Gloria did have to remove the turban, however, because the taxi roof would have flattened it. Dorothy had to hold on to her hat all day, since the slightest puff of wind threatened to lift it off. An extra hatpin would have been nice, but she had forgotten, and she was sure Cleo never wore a hat so she could not borrow one.

The taxi driver was not at all sure who Mr Jones was going to marry. The women were all turned out beautifully, but the bride was probably the one in the cream suit, he conjectured. However, when she got out of his taxicab and was presented on the Town Hall steps with a posy of red roses and trailing larkspur by Gary Hurley, the taxi-driver professed that he was even more confused than he had been on the drive to the registry office. The gentleman with the roses looked as if he should have been the groom. The taxi-driver thought the man was thinking the same thing. He looked sad and resigned.

“Can I take a photo of you all?” the taxi-driver said, whipping out his mobile.

“Oh please do, and send us one!” said Gloria.

“Will do,” he promised.

“Where’s Julie?” cried Robert.

Gary was saved from answering when Julie appeared, dressed in frothy powder blue. She went over to Gary, who was putting on a brave face, Dorothy thought, and hooked her arm in his. That confused the taxi driver even more. Two bridegrooms and four brides?

The wedding took place as it should, with no one shouting protests, although hat least three people present had been expecting some. There was relief from some and despair in one other that the union was at last signed and sealed. An hour later the same cabby was relieved to see that the group had sorted itself out to everyone’s satisfaction. Dorothy would sit in front and the bridal pair on the back seat. The others would drive with Gary to the bistro.

“Have a drink with us!” Robert invited, when they had all arrived safely and been greeted by Delilah and Mitch bearing glasses of champagne.

“Better not, but thanks anyway.”

“Nice man,” said Gloria when the taxi man had driven off.

“A bit confused, I thought,” said Dorothy. She and Gloria went home so as not to disturb the wedding night.

***

“I ‘m glad to be home,” said Cleo several hours later, as she last kicked off the elegant shoes that had become tighter and tighter as the day wore on. Gary would have massaged her feet until the ache had gone. Robert took his own shoes off and parked them tidily, remarking that his socks had seen better days. Cleo brewed some coffee while Robert sat and looked at the list he needed for the wholesaler’s next day.

Now the deed was done, Robert swiftly returned to business as usual, unaware that he should have given Cleo a little more attention. Cleo was not surprised and nor was she anxious to be reminded of some conjugal ritual or other, but she needn’t have worried. The conjugal deal was done. She had seen the stricken look on Gary’s face. Why had he not stepped in?

“I’m glad it’s over,” said Robert. “I’m exhausted and tomorrow I’ll have to get up at the crack of dawn to go to the wholesalers. No use phoning. It’s always better if I show up.”

“You’d better get your beauty-sleep then,” said Cleo, reading between the lines. “I’ll get up and make your breakfast, but I’m not going to make a habit of getting up that early.”

“No? I thought that was a wife’s duty. Isn’t it in the contract?”

“Not in mine,” said Cleo. “Have you thought up any duties for the groom, Robert?”

“You get more than enough of that elsewhere,” he retorted.

“Have you ever wondered why?” said Cleo.

“You married me, not him. That’s the main thing.”

“HE is still married, Robert.”

“So be it, Cleo. Let’s make the best of it.”

“At arm’s length?”

“Why not? We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“That’s right, Robert. We’re friends.”

“I’m quite relieved that your mother did not decide to dance in that outfit.”

“Not as relieved as I am or as disappointed as Delilah was. She has struck up a rather jolly friendship with Gloria.”

“They have a lot in common. Both like to be the centre of attention, but today wasn’t Gloria’s party or Delilah’s for that matter!”

“I’m sure it was Delilah’s idea for my mother to dress up like that!” said Cleo.

“Gloria told me about a navy-blue suit she had bought extra for the wedding,” said Robert, “You might be right in thinking that Delilah set her up. Your mother is on all the photos looking like an African queen.”

“The nearest she’s been to Africa is on the internet,” said Cleo.

“But you have to admit that she’s still a looker, even at her age.”

“My mother is not the type of person who fades away gracefully!”

“Are you, Cleo? You seem to be fading away already.”

“I probably am,” said Cleo, aware that she was already regretting her decision to go through with the wedding.

Cleo’s wedding night consisted fortunately of the groom snoring and snorting and the bride sitting and sleeping on the sofa after sending Gary a text telling him that she would always love him and was sorry about getting married to the wrong man. The red roses were beautiful and getting them from him had almost broken her heart.

***

Cleo was up early enough to drink some extra strong espresso and get the frying pan going for Robert. He had not noticed her absence during the night. That morning was also the first time she felt a fluttering in her body that heralded the birth of PeggySue.

Thanks to having seen Robert off replete from his calorie-laden breakfast, Cleo broke her resolve not to open the office for the rest of the week and was there before eight. She texted Gary where she was and he arrived twenty minutes later.

“I assume that we are about to consummate your marriage,” he said, locking the door and making sure the ‘closed’ notice was hanging from its suction hook.”

“Was it that bd, Cleo?”

“Worse, and the fatty fry-up this morning made me queasy. But that’s not the only reason.”

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

“It’s his legally, Gary, and he hates the idea of kids. The future looks grim.”

“Hang on, Cleo. We’ll get there one day.”

“We’ll have to go slow, Gary.”

“But not now.”

“Of course not. Dorothy brought me a duvet the other day. It’s softer than linoleum. Want to try it?”

***

At ten Dorothy phoned.

“Where are you, Cleo?”

“We tried out the duvet, Dorothy. Come to the office for breakfast.”

Dorothy had stopped bring shocked or even surprised at Cleo and Gary’s antics, though she thought it a bit over the top them meeting the day after Cleo had married someone else.

The lovers dressed and in no time at all an impromptu table was laid on the office desk, complete with red and white checked tablecloth, linen napkins and when Dorothy arrived, loads of home baking. The delicious aroma of coffee was wafting from the utility room into the office.

“Not queasy?” Dorothy asked.

“No,” said Cleo.

“You’d better eat something. You’ll feel better when you’ve eaten something,” said Dorothy. “You must be tired after yesterday.”

Gary realised that Dorothy had not considered what he was already sure of.

“I should not drink any alcohol in my condition,” said Cleo. “I drank some champagne yesterday. No one stopped me.”

“I would have, but I did not want to get between you and the man of your choice,” said Gary sarcastically.

“He doesn’t want it.”

“Want what?”

“I’m going to have a baby, Dorothy.”

“Oh dear!”

“It wasn’t planned, Dorothy. We were really careful – most times.”

“Who?”

“You know who.”

“Not the guy you married yesterday, I take it.”

“I shouldn’t think so. I just had one short episode with him a few weeks ago when my conscience caught up with me briefly. He didn’t enjoy it either, Dorothy, in case you’re wondering.”

“What a mess,” said Dorothy.

“It has to be officially Robert’s baby, whoever the father is,” said Cleo. “Don’t breathe a word to anyone.”

“I’m hardly likely to, am I?”

“I’m not planning to tell anyone else until it’s obvious,” said Cleo.

“What are you going to do about me then? I have a right to be its father,” said Gary.

“Not legally,” said Cleo.

“You’re miserable because you drank some champagne, but you are devastated because Gary did not stop the wedding going ahead,” said Dorothy. “Why didn’t you, Gary?”

“I respected Cleo’s determination to marry her butcher friend.”

“That’s not like you Gary. You couldn’t expect me to step in,” said Dorothy.

Cleo did not often cry, but she did now.

“I’ll make us some fresh coffee, shall I?” said Dorothy, and withdrew to the utility room.

Dorothy was not really surprised about the baby. Time would put things right, she thought. Until then she would not even think about the situation.

“You will have some home-made bread, won’t you Cleo?” she said, returning with a fresh pot of coffee. “I’ve brought enough for a regiment.”

“You can’t even get an annulment,” said Gary.

“Sweetheart, get your divorce through and I’ll kick Robert out.”

“That’s more like it,” said Dorothy. “I was going to report on my trip to Beethoven Road while we are wrapping ourselves round the calories.”

“Go ahead, Dorothy,” said Gary. “And thank you for forgiving us for being such scandalous friends.”

“I love you both,” said Dorothy. “You could be the children I never had.”

***

By the time they had eaten several slices dripping with butter Dorothy had not forgotten to bring,  and listened to Dorothy’s splendid report on Berta Wojciechowski, Cleo was full of the feeling that they might be on the way to finding the murderer of the woman in the Bell Tower.

“I’m glad you heard the story, Gary fresh from the horse’s mouth,” said Dorothy.

“I’m glad I did, too,” said Gary.

“Banu Akbari would have had a lot of explaining to do,” said Cleo.

“But she has left us with mysteries and conundrums instead,” said Gary.

“Maybe Sybil Garnet can answer some of the most pressing questions,” said Cleo. “When are you moving, Gary?”

“I moved yesterday. I’m going to miss your cooking, Dorothy.”

“Julie can help you,” said Cleo.

“Julie? I don’t share bed or table with her,” said Gary. “I’ve moved back into my old flat. I’m just a deputy escort for Colin. I only love one woman and she married someone else.”

“But you didn’t stop it happening, Gary.”

“Did you want me to something that drastic?”

“On reflection, yes.”

To say that Gary’s heart sank at that moment would not be an adequate depiction of his anguish.

“I’m going home,” said Dorothy. “Can you please sort yourselves out so that we can get on with solving crimes?”

After Dorothy left, Cleo and Gary sat wordless for some time.

“Would you like some more coffee, Gary?” Cleo finally said.

“We can meet at my flat in future, but the utility room will do for today,” said Gary. “But only if you want to, Cleo. You’re a married woman now.”

Cleo locked the door.

“Come on, lover-boy,” she said. ”To hell with my marriage!”

“I’ll go with that,” said Gary.

“Another fulfilling consummation of your marriage to another guy,” said Gary. “That’s so ironic it’s almost satirical.”

“Consummation meant snoring all night for him and curling up on the sofa under the plaid for me.”

“You poor lamb,” said Gary. “Next time you need a bed, call me for heaven’s sake.”

Let’s not talk about us anymore,” said Cleo. “How is Charlie? Have you thought of a way to get her back?

“Charlie is still in Spain with my ex and her lover. I don’t know how she’s coping and it really cuts me up.”

“Get her back for both your sakes, Gary.”

“I think her mother will get rid of her when she realizes that Charlie is taking up space between her and that guy of hers. Teenagers can rule the roost.”

“But she’s still only ten years old.”

“She’ll age! How are you, Cleo? You looked a bit out of sorts when I came.”

“You put the roses back in my cheeks, Gary,” she said. “Yesterday was difficult and it was the wrong decision.”

“Just one thing, Cleo… If it’s my baby I want to share it with you, Cleo.”

“I’ll pretend it’s his so that respectability is not at stake. Butcher’s don’t like their wives to have lovers.”

“Robert will not believe you.”

“Robert is not very highly charged at the best of times and the whole business is meaningless because he does not want children and I have made it clear to him that I need you. He doesn’t know about the baby. I hardly know myself.”

“And yet you married him. If you had told me about the baby at the wedding I would have protested. So you didn’t tell me. Was that fair, Cleo?”

“I only suspected that we had made a baby, Gary.”

“You could get an annulment if you say who the father is.”

“That would humiliate Robert and he’s too nice a guy for me to do that.”

“Aren’t I a nice guy?”

“Yes, but I married Robert.”

“OK. I can live with the situation until Charlie is back home and my divorce is through, but after that I’ll challenge Robert’s fatherhood.”

“Please do,” said Cleo as she unlocked the office door. “I hope Robert did not see your car parked outside, Gary.”

“I hope he did,” said Gary.

Cleo locked the door.

“In a way, so do I.”

“We could move back into the utility room now if you don’t want me to go.”

“Was that so obvious? Do you have time?”

“I’ll make time.”

***

Sometime later the lovers dressed and sat at Cleo’s desk sipping another round of coffee.  The whole morning had been spent in and out of the utility room. Gary remarked that it was a funny choice for the day after marrying someone else.”

It’s my honeymoon, Gary. Robert did not suggest having one. And now, let’s work a little, since you’re here.”

“You must be joking,” said Gary. “But if you insist, let’s look at the case in general first. I’m sure you’ve looked in the local phone book and not found Sybil there.”

“She might have been in the yellow pages.”

“I’m not sure if Beethoven Road tower block can be classed as a business address.”

“It can, Sweetheart. The entries cost money. The yellow pages publisher wouldn’t turn it down.”

“But Berta told Dorothy that Sybil had left, so she would not need a business address, would she?”

Not unexpectedly, there was no sign of Sybil in the yellow pages, but to Cleo and Gary’s amusement, Berta was in there offering ‘special foreign treatment’.

“Foreign?”

“Polish. I’ll just load Dorothy’s notes, Gary. All we know will be in there. Didn’t you get a copy last night?”

“Yes, but I did not read it or print it.”

Gary was still trying to get back into his job, Cleo thought, and he had the additional burden of taking on his predecessor Roger Stone’s administrative tasks that could well have contributed to Gary’s burnout . Roger Stone was himself still trying to cope with having a wife in prison for murder and even being under suspicion himself.

Was it all too much for Gary to cope with so soon after he’d been declared cured of burnout, but advised to take it slowly? His sadness that he was only a witness and not the groom at Cleo’s wedding had done nothing to help.

“Be nice to yourself, Gary. You can’t take on everything in that department of yours,” said Cleo, who was sure that Gary was not happy with his new job.

“But I can tell people what to do.”

“That’s why Berta is such a great source, Gary. Dorothy had a really good discussion with her.”

“Dorothy was on her own, I take it.”

“Sure. She told you she was going to look for people who knew Sybil, didn’t she?”

“I thought she was making it up.”

“Dorothy never makes things up unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“So what would you like to do next, Cleo?”

“Assuming Berta doesn’t ring the agency with more information, the ball is in your court, but we should pay Miss Crane a visit in prison of you can arrange it.”

“I’ll go to HQ now and find out where she is incarcerated. Can you come there in about 2 hours?”

 “Sure. As far as I could gather from what Dorothy said, there was a miscarriage of justice, Gary, so we could both pose as private investigators wanting to get Crane freed.”

“Brilliant!”

“And Robert won’t start looking for me. I’ll phone him later.”

***

Gary thundered off in his red car, happy that he and Cleo were still an item and still working together since that gave them much more room for opportune meetings. Not that Gary cared if Robert knew what was going on when they were not working. On the contrary. What really made him happy was that Cleo wanted it that way and he was sure that she was carrying his baby, whatever came to be written on the birth certificate.

The more Cleo thought about it, the more certain did she become that she and Gary were not going to lose one another even if she had married Robert. Her marriage made her socially more acceptable and that still mattered, though its importance was diminishing rapidly. Her love affair made her happy and there was no sign of that wearing out.

In the Anna case it was vital to follow up any leads, and Alice Crane might be one of them. Cleo was sure that Gary would take on the case involving baby-trading. She wondered if Roger Stone knew anything about it. How efficient had he been in Gary’s job? There were reasons to think he had left chaos behind, if the disarray in the HQ archive was anything to go by.