On impulse he waited a few moments before following, crossing back to the other side of the street and keeping a safe distance behind her. He didn’t want to leave it too long before approaching her and willed her to turn a corner, which she did. He saw his opportunity and quickened his pace to catch up with her before she had a chance to jump into a taxi parked at the kerbside.
She had the door open and was about to step in, when Dillon called out, “Excuse me, but are you Sarah Poulter?”
The young woman turned to look back at him; she had one hand on the taxi’s roof and one foot inside when she stiffened. She gazed at him suspiciously and Dillon immediately saw that she was a striking looking woman.
“Why, who are you and why do you want to know?”
“Because I saw you come out of the apartment building where Rosie Poulter lives. And would like to ask you a few questions if you don’t mind, that is.”
She withdrew her foot from inside the taxi but left the door open. The driver looked around and gruffly asked if she wanted the ride or not, because there were other fares waiting. She didn’t bother answering, simply slammed the door and a second later he drove off.
“You haven’t answered my question. And, whatever you want, it had better be good. Because I’m giving a lecture in forty-five minutes.”
Her tone had hardened and she was obviously not that comfortable with talking to a total stranger at the kerbside.
Dillon spoke quietly and without any preamble. “Look, I’m not a perv stalking you, or a salesman trying to sell you something. I’m simply trying to unravel a mystery that might involve your mother. I think that she might be able to help me with some background information about a man I’m writing a book about. My name, by the way is, Jake Dillon.”
The young woman stood looking at Dillon for a few seconds, weighing him up and trying to decide whether he was being genuine or not.
Dillon added, “Look, I’m really not trying to waste your time. I simply want to talk to your mother about something that has possibly to do with her past. The problem I have, is not wishing to blunder in and inadvertently drag something up that may upset her. That’s why I’d like to talk to you first. If you’ve got a little time, that is.”
“There’s a pub around the corner. You’ve got five minutes and the meter’s already running.”
“Sounds good, thank you,” Dillon said.
In the pub, Dillon ordered drinks and they sat down at the bar.
“Look, I’ll come straight to the point. When I saw you coming out of that building, it was very strange. Because you have a remarkable resemblance to the man whom I am writing a book about. His name is Charlie Hart.”
She almost spat her drink across the bar and was clearly shocked by what he had just said. Dillon noticed a little colour blush her cheeks and a look of disbelief cross her face.
“Why have you come here? Is this some sort of bad joke?” It came out as a suspicious accusation.
“I really have come here to find out from your mother about Charlie Hart. Hopefully to find out about his relationship with her, and why he visits the café opposite your building on a regular basis, sits at a window seat and waits for your mother to appear, yet never approaches her or even attempts to talk to her.”
“What are you? A private detective or something?”
“Or something, I’m afraid. I’m actually a freelance writer.”
“Oh, a writer. Must be exciting.” She looked confused, but held herself together all right.
Dillon could see that she was disturbed and to say the least, a little distressed, by the mention of Hart’s name. But he pressed on regardless.
“Do you know who Charlie Hart is?”
She turned her head, eyes misted and retorted. “He was my mother’s long-lost younger half-brother, that’s who.”
“Why do you say that he was your mother’s younger brother?”
Sarah Poulter wiped the tears from her cheeks with a pristine white handkerchief.
“Because, when mum was just a baby she was given up for adoption by her mother who was seventeen and unmarried. She left mum in care and a few weeks later ran off to India with this bloke named Hart. You see, when you don’t know anything about your past you can’t look forward to the future. That’s why she’s spent most of her adult life trying to come to terms and discover her past. Finding out about Charlie was a lucky break. She had been searching the births, deaths and marriage records when she came across him. That was a monumental turning point for her. Can you imagine finding out that you had a younger half-brother? After that it was a case of tracing the Harts through the British Embassy in Delhi. It was from the embassy records that she discovered that the parents had been killed many years before.”
“Sarah, I can tell you that Charlie Hart is alive and kicking. He did leave India shortly after his parents were murdered by kidnappers when a ransom wasn’t paid. This was a long time ago, and he went to live in Hong Kong with his son for a while. They both travelled back to the UK and have been living here ever since.”
“Are you sure about this? Where?”
“Close by in Poole, I’ve stood about as close to him as we are now and talked with him. I’m sure, all right.”
“My uncle, living here, near Bournemouth? But why hasn’t he contacted mum? Why skulk about watching her?”
“At first I thought that there was some other connection they had. But you’ve squashed that theory. I really can’t tell you why he hasn’t made direct contact and I’ll not speculate about a family matter. I’ll leave that to your uncle when he eventually thinks the time is right to meet her himself. Now, I’ve taken up enough of your time and I really do appreciate you talking to me. You’ve been more than helpful.”
Sarah was now fully recovered. She had listened carefully to what Dillon had said and agreed that this revelation would be an enormous shock to her mother after so many years, and that it was best left to Charlie Hart to break the news.
“You’ve disappointed me, Mr. Dillon. I thought you had much more to tell me. Why am I left with the feeling that you have learnt more from me than I have from you?”
“If you get the opportunity to meet Charlie Hart, you’ll appreciate what a great risk I’ve taken just talking to you about him. He’s a very powerful and wealthy man. I’ll leave it there. Once again, you’ve been very kind and generous with your time and I appreciate that.”
Sarah frowned. “I still don’t wholly trust you.”
“Please believe me, Sarah, when I say that I have no intention of hurting you or your mother in any shape or form.”
Dillon slipped down from the bar stool and gave a wry grin.
“Have I been holding you against your will?”
He walked out of the pub with her and as they stood on the pavement, she turned to him and said, “No, but I’m still wondering what your real game is.”
“I’m sure your mother is very proud of you,” he said spontaneously.
“How can you possibly know that?”
“I don’t. But I’m sure she is and always has been.”
“I reckon you know far more than you’re telling. So, do I get to hear the full story one day? The truth?”
He stared at her and noticed how clear and steady her eyes were. “I’m sure you will. It’s been nice meeting you Sarah.”
Dillon shook her hand and was walking back to his car before she could say another word.
As he drove across town to the rented apartment in Lilliput, he couldn’t work out whether meeting Sarah Poulter had been good or bad luck. He had obviously held certain things back and perhaps he might have learnt more from her mother. At the same time he was glad he had met her. He had gone as far as he could — it was time to meet Hart again. But first he must contact Paddy McNamara and hope that he had been able to do the research he wanted.