Secrets
By Susan Heywood

The conclusion

Part 25 of 25 — Conclusion

Paul made two mistakes.

Jane survived but at the price of her mobility; she couldn’t walk as a result of Paul’s attempt on her life.

The other mistake cost Paul Hopley his life.

The previous afternoon, Jane had ordered a brand new Lexus RX in, of course, Matador Red. She decided that, now she had a partner and a daughter — who herself might well acquire a partner — and soon-to-be parents-in-law, and although she loved driving it, she would replace the somewhat impractical Lizzy with something more suitable, that is, with five full-sized seats. Given the demand for used Lexus cars, she had no trouble negotiating the sale of Lizzy; the swap from previous owner to new owner would take only an hour or so. Unfortunately this was due to take place early the following week, a few days that would change Jane’s world.

Jane was in hospital for several months, the first of which she was in a coma.

I visited as often as possible, willing her to wake up. Travelling with a guide dog was not easy and I had to get special dispensation to take Bonnie into Jane’s room.

I was delighted when she eventually awoke from the coma.

The surgeons tried, without success, to get her to the stage where she could walk without help. She eventually accepted that she would have to get around on a scooter-chair, at least for the foreseeable future. She said to me, “I’m broken; you could do so much better.”

I answered, “You’re the woman that I love; I don’t want anyone else, I want you.” I sealed my statement with a long, passionate kiss that left her in no doubt of my feelings.

Wroxall Gardens, being split-level, could easily be adapted to take the scooter and her new car could be fitted with a hoist.

With severely restricted mobility she was offered a desk job with the police but decided to look elsewhere. She eventually took a job with Global Synthetic Developments (known to employees, visitors and locals as GSD) as their Security Manager. This was the very same company for which her daughter worked. Her responsibilities included supervision of all the security personnel and procedures at the company’s various locations. She was encouraged to use her experience as a police officer and develop the job to meet the challenges presented by an ever-changing world.

She could easily ride or drive to any work location; her car was automatic and could be fitted with electric accessories and hand controls.

The woman who interviewed her was very interested in Jane’s circumstances. She herself was blind, relying on a guide dog. Her husband was one of several members of staff who got about in a scooter-chair. That wasn’t the only thing that they had in common. Megan Taylor, who conducted the interview, was assigned as a male child at birth and also relied on her guide dog. (Megan’s history can be found in my story “There’s Life in the Old Dog Yet”).

On his way from the scene, Paul didn’t see the tractor until the last moment. He overtook a slow-moving farm vehicle and settled down to drive at about thirty-five miles an hour to the nearest main road. Thirty-five miles an hour wasn’t an unreasonable speed for the road and, ordinarily, he would have been safely on his way five minutes or so later. As he was negotiating a narrow humpback bridge over a railway line, a big tractor emerged from a field on the opposite side of the bridge. The tractor driver, trying against all odds to obtain a mobile phone signal, was only partly concentrating on his driving and didn’t expect the little Morgan sports car coming over the bridge towards him on the narrow country road. Even at the speed at which he was driving, Paul stood no chance of avoiding the inevitable collision; his lightweight sports car fared badly against several tons of tractor and Paul didn’t survive the impact.

Jane’s hospitalisation meant that her team worked without her on the investigation into the crash. Such was the degree of training that Jane had put in place that the team rallied round to help in any way they could.

I wouldn’t have liked to be a forensic investigator who had to sift the remains of cars and occupants for clues.

Eventually, someone checked the tyres in the hope of finding some failure to account for the demise of the Lexus. He found evidence of the bullet. Detectives also attended the scene of the other incident when a search of the wreckage of the sports car yielded a high power sniper’s rifle. One and one made two and another two, in the form of Paul Hopley and his brother Luke, made a full set of four.

September 2007

I still couldn’t believe that this was finally happening — and on my twenty-sixth birthday too. The whole family had congregated at the Harley Court Hotel. I entered the conference room on my Daddy’s arm. Dan was best man and Melanie, Jane’s daughter, was my chief bridesmaid; my other bridesmaid was Rosalind, my niece. I’d have to work out if, after our ceremony, I was related to Melanie and how. The gathering included Melanie’s adoptive parents, who we’d got to know, and Hélá¨ne, Jane’s mother.

There couldn’t be many brides whose bridesmaids included her niece and her wife’s daughter.

A string ensemble played Handel’s ‘Air from the Water Music’ as we walked towards Jane, who was sitting on her scooter chair. I was wearing a white satin strapless wedding dress with green accents; Melanie and Rosalind wore green bridesmaid’s dresses. Bonnie, a matching green ribbon tied to her harness, walked on the other side of me from my father. Jane, wearing a white trouser suit and green cravat, was to be given away by her Aunt Sophie. Jane looked positively yummy despite the scooter-chair. What a wonderful birthday present for me!

We went through the ‘lawful impediment’ bit and then the ‘I take thee…' bit, like in the conventional marriage service.

My sister-in-law Geena then read ‘Blessing for a Wedding' by James Dillet Freeman. Some of the words were changed to reflect our different circumstances.

“May your partnership bring you all the exquisite excitements that such a union should bring and may life grant you
patience, tolerance, and understanding.
May you always need one another - not so much to fill your emptiness as to help you to know your fullness.
A mountain needs a valley to be complete; the valley does not make the mountain less, but more; and the valley is more a valley because it has a mountain towering over it.
So let it be with you both.
May you need one another, but not out of weakness.
May you want one another, but not out of lack.
May you entice one another, but not compel one another.
May you embrace one another, but not out encircle one another.
May you succeed in all-important ways with one another, and not fail in the little graces.
May you look for things to praise, often say "I love you"
and take no notice of small faults.
If you have quarrels that push you apart, may both of you hope to have good sense enough to take the first step back.
May you enter into the mystery that is the awareness of one another's presence - no more physical than spiritual, warm and near when you are side by side, and warm and near when you are in separate rooms or even distant cities.
May you have happiness, and may you find it making one another happy. May you have love, and may you find it loving one another.”

The registrar then said to each of us, “Will you solemnly promise that you will always protect this woman with your utmost care, that you will honour and cherish her in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, and that in all things you will be to her a faithful and loving partner.'

We both responded, “I will.”

Following the vows, the string ensemble played ‘Morning’ by Grieg while The Registrar watched as Jane and I, Celia and Ruth - one of Jane’s friends and colleagues, signed the Civil Partnership Schedule.

When we returned, we exchanged rings.

The Registrar said, “‘as tokens of the contract into which you have entered, these rings are given and received. By virtue of signing the schedule in my presence as a Registrar of Civil Partnerships, and before witnesses, I declare that you, Jane Marie-Christine, and you Jennifer Ellen, have now formed a Civil Partnership in accordance with the law. You may now kiss.’

We didn’t need to be told twice.

We processed from the ceremony to ‘Ode to Joy’ by Beethoven. Jane rode her chair and Bonnie walked by my side. I held onto the back of Jane’s chair; she led me from the room as she had led me, over the last two and a half years, into the life to which I’d surely been born.

Jane’s mother had given us a wedding present of two weeks honeymoon in the sun. Bonnie was to be looked after by Geena, Peter and the twins. It seemed that Hélá¨ne had come around to the idea that Jane would never be a wife. Of course, I now fulfilled that role.

Jane said, “Now that we’re married, I get to nag you.”

I agreed, smiling. “It’s probably a long-established tradition.”

“Then get that delicious body to the Dining Room, Mrs Jennifer Ellen Dyson; after dinner, I’ve a hot date with a gorgeous bride!”

The End