The Sterling Affair by Nathan Dylan Goodwin

Author:Nathan Dylan Goodwin [Goodwin, Nathan Dylan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-01-15T16:00:00+00:00

Morton was back at home, feeling emotionally drained. The same feeling of nausea came over him in waves when his thoughts returned—regularly and often of their own volition—to his grandfather’s situation, as he was euphemistically dubbing it.

He couldn’t delay it any longer: he needed to email Maddie and offload some of the burden onto her. Part of his reluctance stemmed from the unknown implications, which would follow his naming his grandfather, but he realised that they would not be his load to bear.

Sitting at his study desk, he opened up his laptop and scrolled down his emails until he reached the one from Maddie. He clicked reply and then stared at the screen for a few seconds. Then, he headed down to the kitchen and poured himself a large glass of red wine. Then, he went to the toilet. Just as he was going back upstairs, his mobile phone began to ring in his pocket. An unfamiliar landline with the dialling code of 01342.

‘Hello?’ he answered, continuing up to his study.

‘Is that Morton? It’s Winnie, here.’

It took him a moment to register that he was speaking with the woman who lived in Priory Flats in Ardingly. ‘Oh, yes... Hello. How are you?’ he asked.

‘Not bad, thank you. Mustn’t grumble,’ Winnie replied. ‘I’m calling about that photo you sent. Yes, it’s definitely Maurice, the poor old sod.’

‘You’re completely sure, are you?’ Morton pressed, sitting at his desk and sipping his wine.

‘One hundred percent; it’s him.’

Well, it might have been the man whom you believe to be Maurice Duggan, Morton thought, but actually his name was Alexander Emmett… But he wasn’t about to start down that convoluted explanation.

‘May I keep the photo?’ Winnie asked. ‘Only, it’s a little bit clearer than mine, see.’

‘Of course. Thank you for letting me know,’ Morton said, about to end the call and begin writing the dreaded email to Maddie.

‘I’ve kept looking at it because it reminds me of someone,’ Winnie continued. ‘Maybe someone famous? Like a film star of the day?’

Morton brought the image of Maurice on the pilot’s licence to mind but couldn’t agree that he looked like any film star of whom he could think. He picked up the pair of glasses that had belonged to Alexander during his time posing as Maurice Duggan and put them on.

‘When was it taken?’ Winnie asked.

‘I don’t know exactly, but it was used on his pilot’s licence in 1948. So, some time before that.’

‘Clark Gable?’ Winnie suggested to herself. ‘James Stewart? What was that chap in that Hitchcock film?’

Morton stifled an impatient sigh, not wanting to listen to a list of film stars from the 1940s.

‘Cary Grant? No… That’s not him.’

‘Right, I’d better get on,’ Morton cut in. ‘Thanks for letting me know about the photo.’

‘You’re very welcome. I’ll keep thinking about that—’

‘Thank you,’ Morton said. ‘Bye.’

He just caught the words, ‘David Niven,’ as he ended the call.

The email in reply to Maddie was still onscreen, the cursor flashing, impatiently waiting for him to type something.

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