A Debt of Honour – Episode 14
A Debt Of Honour
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- 1. A Debt of Honour – Episode 14
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“That depends.”
Shauna launched into the real story: the informal engagement, the London infatuation, the chase across the world and the new crises she had to face as a mother, then a single mum.
Most importantly, she explained about the gifts of money which had kept her going.
Gifts from the man she had left behind.
Finishing her story, she took the envelope from her handbag and laid it on the desk.
“This is the first time I’ve been able to come home and pay Neil back. I have a week or so to find him, then I’ll be going home.”
She sighed.
“I’m not here to stir up trouble. Just to say thanks to Neil and to give him back the money that kept my family going through the two worst patches in my life.”
Jean Ferguson’s eyes were on the crisp envelope.
“Do you want me to open it?” Shauna asked.
Jean shook her head.
“No,” she said. “I’m happy to take that on trust.
“So the bottom line is that you need us to give you Neil Caldwell’s address, as it was at the time he arranged the burials.
“And, under data protection, we cannot give you that without his permission. Which you can’t get, because you don’t know where he lives.”
“Exactly,” Shauna replied. “That’s why I need you to bend the law. Just a little.”
“Enough to incur the full penalty.” Jean Ferguson grimaced. “First, let me check our records to see if we have the information.”
Rising, she crossed to a filing cabinet and took out a large red diary.
Flipping through its pages, she finally stopped.
“Yes,” she said. “Here it is – where he stayed when he asked us to do his mother’s burial.”
Jean put the open diary flat on the desk.
“If you hold on a few moments, I will see what my husband says.”
Then she walked out, leaving the diary and the address in plain view.
Shauna stared, transfixed.
Then she opened her bag and took out her pen.
With nothing to write on, she used the face of the envelope holding the cash, turning the diary round and scribbling the address frantically, then pushing the diary back.
She stuffed the pen and envelope into her handbag with hands which were shaking uncontrollably.
About two minutes later, Jean Ferguson came back.
“I spoke to Jim,” Jean told her. “He wants to help, but our hands are tied.
“I’m sorry, but we cannot tell you where Neil Caldwell lived.”
The rules had been bent, but discreetly so.
“Thank you,” Shauna replied. “I will try elsewhere.”
She reached across the desk to shake hands with Jean and felt the extra squeeze.
“Good luck.” Jean smiled.
It was early evening when Ellie heard her doorbell ring.
She went out to find her mother standing there.
“Where have you been until this time?” she scolded. “Although that’s usually your line to me.”
She drew Shauna inside and closed the door.
“Did you find out anything?” she asked.
“Yes,” Shauna admitted. “Neil’s dad died in 2015 and his mum two years later. They’re buried together in High Blantyre cemetery.”
“And where’s Neil?”
Ellie settled her mum into the armchair, snatching a pair of tights from the arm and holding them out of view.
“I got his address. He was living in Lauder when he buried his mother.” Shauna yawned. “And I’ve been crawling through rush hour to get home.”
“I’ll put the kettle on,” Ellie said. “Have you had anything to eat?”
“Not really.”
“Do you want to go out for a meal?” Mentally, Ellie checked her cash reserves. “Or will I make some sandwiches?”
“Sandwiches are good.” Shauna yawned again. “My body is telling me it’s eight a.m. and I’ve been up all night.”
“It takes about a week.” Ellie smiled. “How did you get his address?”
Her mother looked shifty.
“I sort of . . . borrowed it,” she said finally.
“You what? Have you turned into Ned Kelly?” Ellie exclaimed.
Sheepishly, Shauna explained how Jean Ferguson at the funeral care office had brought out her diary then left it open.
“I’m sure she meant me to get the address,” she finished.
Ellie fought back a fit of the giggles.
“Am I going to be the only graduate whose mother is handcuffed to a policeman?”
“I promise to behave.” Shauna smiled.
“I’ll make you tea and sandwiches,” Ellie said.
She left the room shaking her head: her mum, breaking the law without a second thought?
Maybe the ends justified the means, she thought.
When she came back with a tray of food and tea, her mother was fast asleep in the armchair.
Ellie looked down, smiled, then sat down in the less comfortable armchair opposite.
She had barely settled when one of her flatmates came in.
“Shh!” Ellie hissed. “I’m baby-sitting.”