A Sense of Discovery(a Gripping Psychological Suspense Novel) Read online

  Now standing directly behind the coffin the mourners followed it into the church. Garry walking with his head down, never glancing at what was before him.

  Taking a seat at the front of the church Delia asked in a whisper ‘Are you all right, darling?’

  ‘I’ll live,’ he said with a false smile. ‘But I never thought I’d feel this way.’

  Throughout the service he was quiet and sniffed a couple of times during the prayers. To Delia, he was fighting a battle within, and was very close to losing it. She felt powerless to help.

  Outside after the service Delia commented ‘We’ll miss her. She was a lovely woman, always jolly and happy…’

  ‘Please, no more.’ He pleaded.

  She understood his reluctance to talk about his mum, being full of emotion herself.

  Fifteen minutes later on the way to the crematorium., finally Garry said, ‘Deel, it’s a strange thing to say but I never thought the day would come when mum would die.’ She squeezed his hand gently, ‘It’s ridiculous I know, considering her age, but that’s how I feel.

  She watched as he wiped his eyes with his fingers then breathed in deeply, as if to try to control his emotions.

  A short service followed. And once again when the coffin disappeared behind the screen he wiped away his tears.

  The wreaths were placed at the front of the building next to a card bearing the name ‘Doris May Flynn’ for the mourners to see.

  ‘She always liked flowers,’ he said. ‘Her garden was full of them, even more so after dad died, maybe that was her way of getting over her loss.’

  Later at their house, a buffet was laid on and Garry’s mum remembered and spoken of fondly. It had been a very long day, especially for Delia. She’d got up early to prepare the food and now looked forward to being alone with Garry, who needed her support and love.

  In the quiet of the evening when all the mourners had left and everything cleared away, Delia asked, ‘Are you feeling any better, love?’

  ‘All right considering. But at least we gave her a good send off, didn’t we?’ He said squeezing her hand.

  ‘You did her proud. And it’s another stage we’ve got through.’

  ‘Yes I know what you mean, and I’m glad it’s over. But there’s still a lot more to face up to, the house and all her personal things have to be sorted. Then worst of all we have to come to terms with the fact we’ll never see her again.’

  Delia’s heart went out to him. ‘I felt a bit like that when mum died.’ She said. ‘I didn’t want to think about her at first because it made me cry. But time is a great healer and now I think about her often. Little things happen that bring back memories, and more often than not they’re of the good times. And don’t forget I’ll always be here for you. And we have a lovely family.’

  He nodded his head in agreement, then said, ‘Think I’ll go up to bed, if it’s all right with you.’

  ‘I’ll come as well.’

  ‘You don’t have to. I’m not very good company right now.’

  ‘No but I’m going to.’

  She cuddled up to him, eventually drifting into a fitful sleep. On a couple of occasions, she heard him gently sobbing. Then pulled him close, and told him everything would be fine. And so it would in time.

  <><><>

  He started his new job as a Postal Worker in the sorting office on the Monday after the funeral. He thanked God he found the work easy, or he’d have made a complete fool of himself.

  Hopefully, his colleagues hadn’t realised he was pre-occupied with something else.

  It was no use, no matter how he’d tried to forget it, it just wouldn’t go away. He had to find out the truth and needed to tell Delia about it. So on returning home from work that first night, he decided to speak to her.

  She was in the kitchen preparing the evening meal. He greeted her with a kiss on the cheek and straight away she asked, ‘So how did it go?’

  ‘All right. The work’s dead easy, but it ought to be considering the money they’re paying me.’

  ‘Will you stay there?’

  ‘Well, let me put it this way - I will until something better comes along,’

  ‘I’m proud of you darling, it can’t have been easy for you,’ she smiled at him, touching his face with the back of her hand.

  ‘Anyway, I’ve made your favourite - steak and kidney pie. It’s nearly ready.’

  Through dinner he was on edge, even going red when he looked up and saw Delia staring at him. This wasn’t going to be easy. He guessed she knew something was wrong.

  ‘Garry - what’s the matter?’ She finally asked.

  ‘Eh, how do you mean, Deel?’

  ‘Come on, I can always tell when something’s brewing. You go very quiet. My guess is that this has to do with your mum. And it’s not about her death either,’ she said raising her eyebrows.

  He felt embarrassed. Surprised she’d guessed rightly.

  ‘You know me too well. It’s been giving me grief ever since she died, but I keep telling myself it can’t be true.’

  ‘You’re starting to worry me now. You have to tell me what’s going on?’

  ‘All right, all right,’ he sighed before plucking up the courage. ‘Before mum died she told me something rather fantastic…’

  Once he’d finished, he waited with bated breath for her reaction. This was probably the last thing she was expecting. For a few seconds, she looked lost for words trying to take it all in.

  ‘Garry, she must have been delirious – that’s the only possible explanation. I remember before my mum died, she kept wanting to know when her mother was going to visit her, but gran had been dead then twenty years. I can only say something similar must have happened to your mum.’ She took his hand.

  ‘I thought that at first too, but now I’m starting to change my mind. Don’t ask me why, it’s just a feeling I’ve got. That’s why I looked for my birth certificate. I found it in the bottom of my wardrobe.’

  ‘And what does that tell you?’

  ‘That mum and dad are my parents.’

  ‘Well, there you are, you’re not adopted, are you?’

  ‘I don’t know – I’m still not convinced.’

  ‘Garry, how can you dispute it when the evidence is right there in front of you?’

  ‘Yes, but mum insisted it was the truth.’

  Delia shook her head. ‘You can’t fake a birth certificate.’

  ‘Maybe not. But I might be missing something.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Who knows? Tell you what, why don’t we search her house, at the weekend? See if we can find any clues.’

  ‘Ok, we’ve got to clear the house anyway, so if there’s anything to find it will turn up.’

  <><><>

  So on Saturday morning, they went through every room of his mum’s house meticulously but didn’t find anything. Garry still wasn’t satisfied.

  ‘There’s something staring me right in the face, but I can’t see it,’ he insisted to Delia on the way home.

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘A gut feeling. Ever since she told me, I’ve thought there are a few things that don’t ring true. Like mum and dad’s ages for a start. They were both in their eighties when they died, so they must have been in their late thirties when they had me. Don’t you find that odd?’

  ‘Not particularly. It’s not impossible for women to have children right up to their late forties…’

  He ignored this. ‘And I don’t look like either of them. I’m blond; blue-eyed and fair skinned with freckles, while they were both dark haired and brown eyed. And I’m over six feet tall while they were both short.’

  ‘True, but that doesn’t prove you were adopted. All that could be coincidental,’ Delia pointed out.

  ‘Yes, but you’ve got to admit, it’s strange.’

  ‘You’re clutching at straws, Garry?’

  ‘No, I’m not. Something’s not quite right, and I can’t put my finger on what.’

/>   Delia smiled, but he could see she wasn’t convinced. He needed to find proof. What would she say then?

  <><><>

  A week later Garry received a letter from his mum’s solicitors, inviting him to be present at the reading of the will. His appointment was at 3.30pm at the offices of Dixon and Dawson. And although they were at odds over the subject of his adoption, Garry still wanted Delia to accompany him.

  They were shown into Mr Dixon’s office, where he greeted them with a handshake before sitting back at this desk. His face was expressionless, giving no indication of what was to come, and he said in a patronising voice, ‘Ah, Mr and Mrs Flynn, please take a seat. Please accept my condolences for the sad death of your mother.

  ‘Now then, Mr Flynn I have here the Last Will and Testament of your mother Doris May Flynn. Basically you, Garry Edward Flynn, are the sole beneficiary of all your mother’s Estate apart from bequests of £1,000 each to your son and daughter Thomas Flynn and Cassie Jenkins. The said Estate includes her property, 5 Crimson Crescent, Dexford, and all its contents, plus small amounts of money in several bank and building society accounts. Also, she has a large number of shares in various large American companies. In all, one might say she was quite ‘comfortably off’.’ He sat back and, over rimmed spectacles perched halfway down his nose, observed their reaction.

  Garry was taken aback for a moment, aware his mum had no other living relatives, but only expected a small amount of money plus the proceeds from the sale of the bungalow, nothing more. And with a puzzled look on his face said, ‘You what? I had no idea she had any shares.’

  ‘Oh yes. They were bought forty years ago. I’ve made tentative enquiries, and it appears the value compared with the purchase price of the shares is quite considerable. I have the estimated figures here if you’d like to read them.’ The solicitor passed a piece of paper over to Garry and Delia.

  When Garry looked at the total value, he whistled in disbelief. It would give them financial security for years to come. He never dreamed his mum was that wealthy, and even worse, she’d never told him about the shares. How peculiar. Why tell him he was adopted, but not about having all that money? Perhaps she hadn’t realised just how much money was involved

  And why didn’t his parents spend some of it? This was getting stranger by the minute.

  Chapter Three

  ‘It’s incredible,’ Garry said finally.

  Delia didn’t answer, just stared at the piece of paper, then shook her head before glancing up at him, her mouth gaping open.

  ‘Why she didn’t sell the shares before now we shall never know, but they are dated some forty odd years ago,’ the solicitor reiterated.

  ‘This is amazing,’ Delia whispered with a slight smile.

  ‘I’ll say. Something’s going on here. Where on earth did she, well they, get the money from to buy such shares; and why invest in American companies?’

  ‘That’s something we can only speculate about, Mr Flynn. They were deposited with us for safe keeping many years ago, and as I’ve already said they are in large successful American companies.

  ‘Right then, I’ve given you a rough outline of what your mother’s Estate will total, so if it’s all right with you I’ll write to the banks etcetera and work towards applying for probate. I realise there’s a lot on your mind at present but do you think you’ll sell the shares or get them transferred into your name? Give it some thought and let me know?’

  Back outside, Garry stood lost for words. He smiled briefly at Delia and she went into his arms and hugged him.

  ‘Delia, I used to dream of having this much money, but as you know that’s all it was.’

  ‘Are you going on a mad spending spree, darling?’

  He laughed, shaking his head. ‘I don’t know what I’m going to do yet. Just imagine, a few weeks ago I was out of a job, and now I’ve got more money than I ever dreamed possible. Crazy – isn’t it?’

  ‘It seems there’s a lot we don’t know about your mum.’

  ‘I feel hurt over it. Why have any secrets from me? It’s as if they bought the shares and forgot about them. But why? Although her last words were she only wanted me, nothing else.’

  Delia shook her head, looking a little concerned. ‘It makes you wonder if…’ She stopped short.

  When she didn’t finish her sentence he asked, ‘What makes you wonder?’

  ‘If they’re connected. You know – the shares being dated some forty years ago, and well… you?’

  ‘So you’re beginning to believe there’s something in this adoption business too.’

  ‘I didn’t say that. I just wondered, like.’

  ‘Mm.’ Was his only reply. But there was no way he’d let this lie. No matter how long it took.

  <><><>

  This latest turn of events played on Garry’s mind so much he had trouble sleeping. No matter how he tried his thoughts rested on the belief the two revelations were connected.

  Then confident he had the answer, he decided to discuss the matter with Delia. ‘Darling, this thing with my mum...’ It was a few days later, after the eye-opener with the solicitor and they were watching television. ‘About being adopted... ’

  ‘Oh, Garry, please... this is becoming an obsession. You’ll end up disappointed and hurt – that’s for sure.’

  ‘Maybe, but I can’t stop now. That birth certificate of mine has to be a fake.’

  ‘Looks real enough to me.’

  ‘Possibly, but if you’ve got money, you can do anything – forging a birth certificate would be easy.’

  ‘Yes, but how do you prove it?’

  ‘I’m not sure about that, yet, but listen – I’ve had an idea. Why don’t I apply for a copy of my birth certificate? If it’s the same as the one I’ve got, then fine. But if it’s different, or there’s no record of it then it proves I was adopted.’

  ‘Good idea. It doesn’t cost much, so I suppose it’s worth a try.’

  Garry couldn’t wait to get on his computer, to access a site that listed all the Births, Marriages and Deaths in the country. He typed in his full name, Garry Edward Flynn, born in Rochdale Lancashire. But when he pressed search, he forgot to restrict the search to births only. When the results came through, despite lots of near matches, there was one definite match for his birth year, but also one in the deaths as well.

  ‘What’s this?’ he asked in an excited tone of voice. ‘I’ve got my birth here, and there’s a death – and it’s exactly the same name, in the same area.’

  ‘It’s a coincidence, Garry. There must be lots of people with the same name as you.’

  ‘Too much of a coincidence as far as I’m concerned. I’m ordering copies of both these certificates, then we’ll see.’

  ‘It may not prove anything.’

  ‘Or it may solve everything.’ He pressed order on the screen. ‘That’s it then, done. It’ll take about a week for the copies to arrive.’

  ‘I can’t wait to see what they say,’ Delia said.

  <><><>

  A few days later Delia came into the kitchen and handed Garry the post, pointing to the envelope marked General Register Office, saying ‘It looks like the certificates have arrived.’

  ‘Oh great, let’s have a look at what they say.’

  With Delia sitting next to him, he slit open the envelope with his finger, his heart fluttering in anticipation and indeed Delia seemed as interested in the contents as him.

  The red birth certificate came first and for a few seconds after reading it they didn’t speak. Finally, Garry asked ‘So what do you make of it?’

  ‘Not a lot. It’s the same as the certificate you’ve already got.’ And she read:

  Garry Edward Flynn, parents Doris Flynn and Daniel Flynn, 6 Regents Crescent Rochdale, born the 5th July 1960.

  ‘It proves you weren’t adopted.’

  Garry frowned. ‘I suppose so. And part of me is relieved. So where did that adoption nonsense come from?’

  ‘I don�
�t know but what about the death certificate? That must be someone else with the same name.’

  ‘Maybe – let’s see.’ He opened out this copy as well.

  To his astonishment, the name was the same.

  Garry Edward Flynn. Age – one month; Date of death – 4th August 1960; Cause of death – Respiratory problems. The biggest shock came when he read the address - 6 Regents Close, Rochdale.

  How unbelievable.

  ‘Jesus, this means…’ The certificate fell limp in his hand as he stared at it, ‘I’m supposed to be dead,’ he finished with a dry swallow.

  ‘But you’re not dead. This doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘Yes, but it’s there in black and white. I told you there was something funny going on. I’m not the original Garry Edward Flynn. So I must have been adopted later, and for reasons unknown they used the same name, the name of their dead child. But why would they do that? Delia – who am I?’

  Delia shook her head.

  ‘I don’t suppose it was hard to adopt a child then. But knowing mum and dad they must have been absolutely devastated and decided to use the name of their own dead baby.’

  ‘We don’t know the circumstances, Garry…’

  ‘I don’t like this. What if they kidnapped me? Oh my God.’

  ‘We shouldn’t meddle in this any longer,’ Delia advised. ‘You might find out something you wish you hadn’t. Wouldn’t you rather remember them as the loving parents they were? Let’s just enjoy the money and leave the rest alone.’

  ‘No way. They deceived me. I’ve got a real family out there; a family I never knew existed. What were the circumstances that led to them giving me up? I’ve got to find out – I want to know what happened.’