Page 53 of A Perfect Devon Christmas
‘I want to help clear his name. I’ve got contacts, I worked for the Fowler Foundation. I’ve got investigative experience. I can help. Please, trust me. I’m not asking you to trust me with his secret, the reason he won’t go back to Kabul. Of course I’m curious, but if you don’t think I need to know, and he doesn’t want to tell me, I won’t press you. I’m not asking for forgiveness for spying on him. But I do want a chance to make this right.’ Silence stretched between the two women. Ivy’s mind whirled. Everything in her screamed to turn away, to protect herself, to keep the walls up. But looking into Helen’s eyes, something told her this woman was sincere. Yet the question wasn’t whether Helen could be trusted, it was whether Ivy could trust herself tojudge Helen’s sincerity. Her track record wasn’t exactly stellar. She’d trusted the Church hierarchy, believed in their integrity right up until they’d thrown her to the wolves. Could she take the risk of being wrong again? To help Omar required continuing what he had started: discovering what was going on at the Fowler Foundation and gathering evidence to prove it. Andthatdidn’t require revealing why Omar couldn’t risk returning to Kabul. Helen was right. She could do this without betraying Omar’s secret.
When Ivy finally spoke, reluctance edged her voice. ‘Alright,’ she said, meeting Helen’s eyes. ‘Let’s try and do this together. Let’s find out what’s really going on at that charity and get enough evidence to convince the Charity Commission to launch an investigation.’
‘I can help. I know I can.’
‘But understand this – I’m not blind. If you cross us, if you betray Omar, you’ll answer to me.’
Helen’s face relaxed. ‘You have my word. I won’t let you down.’
Ivy wasn’t sure if she was making the right decision, but she had to take the chance. She couldn’t do this alone. She had no idea where to start. Ivy hesitated for a moment longer, then nodded. ‘Alright. Let’s meet and figure out what we can do. But remember. Trust isn’t given; it’s earned.’
‘I understand. I’m going to go and make some calls right now. Let’s meet in here tomorrow. It’s a Saturday so make it two o’clock, when it’s not so busy. We’ll figure this out ... together.’
Ivy looked at Trish, who was still watching, her expression now softening. Helen stood, adjusted her bag, but paused before leaving. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘I won’t forget this.’
‘You’re welcome,’ Ivy muttered, watching her leave.
Robby was out there, waiting to pounce on Omar. And Ivy still wasn’t sure if she’d made a mistake involving Helen.
It was Saturday afternoon, and the only remaining sign of the lunchtime whirlwind in the café was the slight ache in Ivy’s lower back. She wriggled in her chair, trying to get comfortable.
‘I wish you’d let me fetch you a cushion,’ said Fred.
Ivy smiled and wrapped her hands around her coffee mug. ‘I’ve made a few calls,’ began Helen. ‘I’ve reached out to a couple of people I know who work closely with Robby, I was too junior to see much of him.’
Fred rose; Ivy raised an eyebrow at Helen. ‘And?’
‘There are whispers. Whispers about how Robby’s a great guy to work for, but a bit gullible – like he never asks the obvious questions. I think there may be someone behind him, manipulating him.’
‘That’s what Omar thinks too,’ Ivy said, her tone excitable.
‘There’s more,’ added Helen, ‘It wasn’t just Omar.’ Helen stirred her tea with precise movements. ‘Three others have left FF in Kabul within the last six months. All under different circumstances, but there was always this – people kept using the same phrase: there was alwaysanatmosphere of suspicion.’
Fred returned, passing Ivy a cushion ‘Try this,’ he suggested, retaking his seat. Ivy took it, shooting him a grateful look, before quickly turning her attention back to Helen. ‘Three? That’s quite a pattern,’ said Ivy.
‘I’ve got contact details for two of them,’ Helen continued, smoothing her hair as she met Fred’s gaze.
‘You make it sound like a spy movie!’ said Fred, his laughter ringing across the café.
Helen tilted her head towards Fred. ‘Both of these former employees are willing to talk.’
‘Definitely a spy movie!’ said Fred, now roaring with laughter.
Ivy watched him, a small smile tugging at her lips. She felt a flutter in her chest, not jealousy, not longing, just pleasure at the way he lit up around Helen. ‘It’s just as serious,’ Helen replied.
‘Yes, I know that. Omar’s talking about leaving Brambleton,’ said Fred.
‘Why?’ cried the two women simultaneously.
‘He won’t explain. Just says it’s to protect people.’
‘To protect who?’ asked Ivy.
‘From what?’ asked Helen.
Fred straightened, concern evident in his voice. ‘He won’t say. Every time I press him, he just withdraws.’
Helen sat up, unconsciously mirroring Fred’s posture. Ivy stared into her coffee, telling herself it was natural for Helen, a young teacher, to emulate Fred, a respected retired teacher.
