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  Alyona’s Voice

  Joan Shirley-Davies

  Austin Macauley Publishers

  Alyona’s Voice

  About The Author

  About The Cover

  Dedication

  Copyright Information ©

  Acknowledgement

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  THE END

  About The Author

  Joan finds inspiration from the many beautiful and interesting places in her home county of Shropshire, especially the meres, near her village. She is also inspired by people and loves to create characters, giving them life, feelings, emotions and a voice. ‘Alyona’s Voice’ is the second in a trilogy and follows ‘Money Is Easy’.

  About The Cover

  At 34 years old, Claudia Hamilton, a talented textile restorer, believes her life-long feud with her manipulative, narcissistic mother, Elsa Hamilton, is in the past. But now her mother is back and up to her old, malicious tricks. Elsa runs an actors’ agency in LA. She is ferociously ambitious and will stop at nothing to get what she wants, namely Claudia’s inheritance from her much-loved grandmother. The bequest is precious and Claudia has vowed to protect it but not by using the same low-down dirty tricks that Elsa plays with such ease. Claudia has to find a more dignified solution and, to that end, takes a commission 150 miles away to delay the inevitable, bitter showdown. This only serves to plunge Claudia headlong into another personal crisis when she meets Fraser Gallier, somebody she believed to be well and truly in her backstory. Fraser is staying in the house where Claudia has taken a commission, so she is trapped between her painful past and the threat of her dangerous mother who was sure to track her down. Fraser had once valued a very special friendship with Claudia and is unable to forgive her for losing touch two years ago. But he is beginning to realise how little he knows about her and is fascinated and surprised by every new thing he learns. Claudia wants to get her normal, orderly life back together but this is impossible, as old heartaches return and new and painful challenges must be met.

  Dedication

  For my family.

  And for all those wonderful people who plant daffodils.

  Copyright Information ©

  Joan Shirley-Davies (2019)

  The right of Joan Shirley-Davies to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

  Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

  ISBN 9781528968034 (ePub e-book)

  www.austinmacauley.com

  First Published (2019)

  Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd

  25 Canada Square

  Canary Wharf

  London

  E14 5LQ

  Acknowledgement

  My grateful thanks go to Meg Cooke, Luke Dowdy, Debbie Lloyd, Ismay Evans and Nicola Tildesley, for your much-valued support, encouragement and for tolerating my many questions about your specialist knowledge.

  Chapter One

  It was just a knock at the door like any other. It might have been a package delivery or a neighbour, but when Claudia saw who was standing there, her heart and soul chilled to the core. This caller was bad news.

  The tall, lean, sophisticated woman raised one neat eyebrow. ‘Hello Claudie,’ she said with an arrogant, authoritative tone in her voice.

  ‘Don’t call me that!’ Claudia returned unemotionally, having long since learned the folly of revealing her feelings to this person. ‘Those days are gone, and so is Claudie.’ She noted a familiar twitch of the woman’s mouth, not the kind that might turn into a smile and bring some light into those cold, grey eyes, but one that demonstrated her displeasure at being opposed so firmly. ‘How did you find me?’ Claudia challenged, her own reactions still well hidden. ‘More to the point, why?’

  ‘Don’t be difficult, Claudie.’ The woman tilted her finely coiffured head and added, ‘We have something to discuss, don’t we?’

  Claudia stepped out onto the doorstep. ‘I can’t think what.’

  ‘Try!’ The word fled from the woman’s lips, sharp and swift. ‘I’ve flown over especially to see you.’

  ‘Flown?’

  The woman scoffed. ‘My word, we are out of date aren’t we? I moved my office to LA three years ago.’

  ‘I can’t imagine how you conned them out of a green card.’

  ‘The obvious way,’ the woman said coldly, ‘you marry somebody. I kept my own name though. I’ve worked too damn hard and long on my business to change it now.’

  Claudia continued to keep her reactions hidden and her voice steady despite old scores, coming back from the past, to torment her. ‘So the Elsa Hamilton Agency is still out there, still selling hungry actors down the river, finding lots of work for little baby pageant princesses…?’

  ‘Don’t be so petty.’

  ‘So, where’s my father?’

  ‘He bought a straw hat, picked up his paint box and moved to Cornwall―to find himself.’

  ‘All he needed to do was look under your foot.’

  Elsa’s cool, classy veneer slipped, her marble-like eyes narrowed. ‘Stop this nonsense, Claudie,’ she said, as if Claudia was still five years old and being very difficult. ‘You know why I’m here.’

  ‘It’s sure to be something for your benefit, Mother, and not mine.’

  Elsa’s lips tightened as she snatched a piece of paper from her huge, expensive bag and waved it in front of Claudia’s face. ‘You owe me an explanation, my girl.’

  Claudia swatted it away as if it was an irritating fly. ‘I owe you nothing.’ She was accustomed to her mother’s tactics and knew that she would change up into another gear and become more forceful.

  Just as Claudia predicted, her mother reached for the door. ‘This is so undignified. I refuse to stay outside, haggling with you.’

  Claudia gripped the letterbox behind her back and pulled it until the Yale lock clicked. ‘You have no business here. So go back to LA and take that useless piece of paper with you.’

  Elsa was astounded. Her eyes widened, her brow lifted, and several creases formed across her forehead. ‘She cut me out! But then you know that, don’t you?’

  Only then did Claudia let her feelings show. She glowered at her mother. ‘Why should she consider you? You never gave her a thoug
ht. Not even a call, a flower or a card on Mother’s Day. What right have you to stand there waving your greedy hands in my face?’

  Elsa closed in on Claudia and glared. ‘I didn’t come all this way to listen to your sentimental angle on it. I want those diaries!’

  Claudia, once again, became unemotional and hid her true reactions. She could almost feel the cold emanating from the woman’s soul, but she stood her ground. ‘No chance! They’re mine―legally and morally.’ It wasn’t easy for Claudia to appear calm when talking about her grandmother, who died only a few months ago. Elsa’s abrasive words were a cruel reminder. ‘You never gave a toss for the diaries before.’

  ‘Well, I do now, and I won’t leave until I have them.’

  ‘You’re wasting your time. I promised Grannie I’d protect them, make sure they weren’t misused in any way.’

  ‘Promised what?’ Elsa scoffed, ‘to hide them in a cupboard like she did?’

  ‘Alyona’s diaries aren’t going to be shut in a cupboard anymore. I’m going to write her story.’

  Elsa sniggered. ‘You couldn’t handle a gutsy plot like that. All the raw emotion, the passion, the―’

  ‘Scandal?’ Claudia interjected. ‘You’re too concerned about the sketchy account that’s been handed down. The real story, the truth, is in the diaries and Richard’s letters.’

  Elsa sucked in a breath through her teeth and said, ‘You might just manage to cobble a cheesy, sentimental little novella, and then what? It’s still going to end up in a cupboard. My husband’s a publisher. A proper novel, with the right promotion, would be worth a fortune. There’s even a film deal in it.’

  ‘In your hands there wouldn’t be anything proper about it. You’d slash Alyona’s life into bits of trash, just to make a cheap movie. The real scandal, back then, was the way Richard’s family treated her, bullied and threatened her, tormented her with demands to disappear from Richard’s life. She was muted by her fear of them, never had a chance to speak up.’ Claudia threw her a determined look and added, ‘But she’s going to get one now. I’m going to give my great-grandaunt a voice at last.’

  ‘Over my―’

  ‘I won’t let that amazing woman be used to make you a quick buck.’

  Elsa fixed a piercing look right into her daughter’s eyes. ‘You, of all people, must know that I won’t walk away from this.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’ It was clear, to Claudia, that this was the beginning of a very bitter conflict. It threatened to be a one-sided one, for she wouldn’t play her mother’s vicious game. How to settle this and keep her dignity and self-respect was something she couldn’t yet imagine, let alone accomplish. People’s weaknesses were Elsa’s strength, and her talent for exploiting them was immense. She would use them by turning on increased pressure, like some kind of emotional thumbscrew. The more her demands were refused, the more she coldly and callously turned it, and it was impossible to anticipate her next move. Dirty tricks were a stroll in the park for Elsa, and she played them with such callous precision, and then covered her tracks so nobody suspected what she had done.

  Elsa pointed her long, slender forefinger like a weapon aimed to back up her words. ‘I’ll have the diaries and the letters. And don’t think for one minute that I’ve forgotten the jewellery.’

  Then, in that moment of dreadful conflict and bitterness, just like a glimmer of sun through a dark raincloud, Claudia laughed at her mother’s ridiculous notion. So when she spoke, there was still a hint of laughter in her voice. ‘What jewellery?’

  ‘Don’t be cute. I know there’s a valuable piece hidden somewhere, a necklace… worth a fortune.’ She raised her brow and said, ‘Unless, of course, you’ve sold it already.’

  ‘Not all white émigré escaped with gems and Fabergé eggs hidden in their muffs. If they did, Zara and Alyona would have parted with them long before they managed to reach Paris.’

  Elsa drew a long breath as if she was going to issue an ultimatum. And then there it was, the characteristic calling card of a malicious, manipulative woman. ‘Well, everybody has a weak spot,’ she said with a smug look on her face, as if she’d won the day already. ‘It’s just a matter of finding out what your particular weakness is these days.’

  ‘I assumed it would come to that.’ Claudia faced her mother, with a cold stare. ‘I’m 33 years old. I’m not your cute, curly-haired little property anymore. Threatening to take away my pet bunny or my kitten or even my horse isn’t going to work.’

  ‘Something will,’ Elsa said with a smirk on her tight lips. Then she turned the thumbscrew a little more. ‘You must have a boyfriend or a husband by now. Maybe he has a weakness. A little smutty skeleton tucked away in his cupboard…hmm?’

  Claudia shook her head and said, ‘I’ll never give in to you.’

  Elsa’s smirk twitched into a brief, sly smile. ‘We’ll see.’ She stared at Claudia’s eyes, as if to burn the threat into her mind. ‘It’s going to be a bit of a scrap, isn’t it? Are you ready for that, Claudie?’

  Claudia knew this wasn’t an empty threat. There had always been something her mother could find to twist her arm. ‘My whole life with you has been a scrap,’ she said with a sharp edge to her voice. ‘And the only reason I’ve never settled it―once and for all―is because I won’t lower myself to behave like you do.’

  Elsa sniggered. ‘Settle it? You have nothing on me. How will you do that?’

  Claudia thought of her mother’s one weakness. It was the only thing that would break through the armour of self-assured power that Elsa Hamilton exercised over those who opposed her. Yet, there was just one weak spot in that cold, cast iron woman that would enable Claudia to bring her down. But then, she would have to deliver one dirty, low-down trick for another. She wasn’t prepared to lower herself, deny her integrity and risk becoming a woman no better than her mother. ‘Go home to Mr Green-Card,’ Claudia said. ‘We’re done here. And to use a term from your world…I think that’s a wrap, don’t you?’

  *****

  Although Claudia fought her corner, she knew that the visit changed everything. Her mother would never give up or cave in. Claudia was caught between a promise made to her grandmother, and the threat from her lifelong bane―Elsa Hamilton.

  Claudia needed time to think, to work out how to deal with this in a dignified way. To that end, she decided that it was necessary to go away for a few weeks—take Alyona’s diaries with her to keep them safe. It wouldn’t be easy, life was very settled in London.

  She made a plan, it included her car, a map and a pin. At the very last minute, her agent found her a commission, 150 miles away. Tapestry restoration wasn’t her favourite work, she much preferred to restore finer textiles, but it was a relief to get something so quickly so she wouldn’t have to use her savings to live. The client, Tony Franklyn, had been looking for somebody for a long time, consequently the money was insane. It felt too good to be true, and Claudia looked for the catch, imagined that it would be the job from hell in some dark, Dickensian Manor, where a dour housekeeper walked around with a chatelaine jingling on her belt.

  Mr Sharpe, Claudia’s neighbour, an elderly ex-serviceman with old-fashioned manners and integrity, said he would keep an eye on the house. Confident in the knowledge that he would never betray her trust, she gave him the keys and her new mobile number.

  The speed with which Claudia rolled up her life in London, and laid it out in a small town called Merevale, was a feat of sheer gutsy determination. The only accommodation immediately available, within a ten-mile radius of her new commission, was Heather Brow Cottage. Part of Heather Brow Farm, it stood in a very beautiful but remote spot. It was approached via a steep, gritty track. Her small car could only complete it in first gear, with the accelerator pedal pressed firmly down to the floor, and the engine roaring loudly. However, the journey downwards needed no gear at all, just the clutch, brakes and steering wheel. It was a big change and way out of Claudia’s comfort zone. Now she woke up to the sound of cows and
sheep instead of cars and motorbikes. However, she felt blessed to have found a landlady, like Molly, a true guardian angel who helped her settle in this new environment.

  Monday seemed a good day to venture into the unknown and find Scary Manor. She arrived at Merevale, far too early, and to kill a little time pulled in to take a look at the beautiful lake. All manner of wildfowl jostled over the bird food tossed by people, old and young alike, sitting on the nearby benches. Ducks dabbled at the water’s edge. Some were on the lake, heads immersed, feet and tails up. Swans glided majestically as if they hadn’t a worry in the world. There was a picturesque parade of shops, white buildings, standing in an arc, with a paved courtyard that was adorned with large planters bursting with colourful, summer blooms. There was an art gallery, jewellery designer, florist and a boutique. A small wooden sign told her that it was the Lakeside Centre. It was a truly beautiful sight, and she felt fortunate in that her brief exile, from London, had brought her to this lovely place. Phase one of her plan was complete, and she felt proud of herself.

  She asked a man for directions.

  ‘Larchwood House?’ He smiled and pointed across the lake to an elegant Georgian property. ‘You can swim across to it, walk around the lake to it or take the next turn left, another left after half a mile and then look out for the wrought iron gates.’

  The gates, to Larchwood House, were open. The ten miles per hour speed limit gave Claudia a chance to glance around. It was like a park. She passed through an arbour where dashes of yellow sunlight flickered and danced over the windscreen. Once through, it was as if a curtain was raised to reveal yet another beautiful scene. This was a very well-maintained property. The grass was short, and the gardens were bursting with colour in the June sunshine. The house was big enough to be impressive but most definitely not a huge, dark, scary Dickensian manor. Several other vehicles were parked by the house, so Claudia pulled in at the end of the row and made her way across the gravel forecourt to the four curved steps, leading to the main entrance. By the side of the door, an ornate bell push invited her to press. So she did and then turned back again to look around. The lake was just as beautiful from this side as it was from the road. She could now see more of the woodland to the left of it, its reflection seemingly a mysterious extra dimension existing beneath the surface of the water. A marquee had been erected on the grass, and people were moving in and out of it. Claudia smiled and thought it a fabulous location for a wedding. Lucky girl, whoever she was, about to be a beautiful bride. She would sit by her guy as he made his romantic speech. Then she’d become a girl again and dance with her father. Her bouquet would fly through the air while her friends laughed and jostled to catch it. Claudia thought that independence was all well and good, but a husband’s company going through life would be nice, a hug on a bad day, a kiss for no particular reason, nights in somebody’s arms and perhaps even a tiff now and then to make it realistic.