by Anita Waller
‘We would have said that about John, wouldn’t we? Having someone close die so young, brings it home. Didn’t you find that?’
‘I updated my will within a fortnight of his passing. I still think you’re making a big mistake though.’
She shook her head.
‘I need a fresh start. And there’s nothing here for Josh.’
‘I told you if he needs a job…’
She laughed.
‘I know and it’s good of you but Josh only inherited his father’s looks, not his gift with words. Josh is more scientifically minded. No, we’re going and that’s the end of it. Besides I think I need to escape from Amy.’
‘Amy?’ David raised his eyebrows in surprise.
‘She calls in to see me and it’s beginning to wear me down.’
‘Why haven’t you mentioned this before?’
‘Because it’s nothing to worry about and I can handle it; I just would prefer she didn’t.’
‘Start at the beginning.’ He sighed.
‘There’s nothing much to tell. She’s called a dozen or more times since John died. It’s weird – there’s so much hostility when she’s there and yet it’s as if she can’t stay away. I’m only just beginning to realise how much she loved him. Perhaps she’s trying to understand our relationship and why it lasted so long. I don’t know. She stays for about an hour and then goes. She really hates me but she needs to be close to John. She knows Mayflower Cottage was a huge part of his life.’
‘How does Josh feel about this?’
She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Most of the time, I don’t tell him. He calls her Witch Amy. Normally he’s out, either at work or with his friends.’ She stood and walked over to the coffee machine. ‘Coffee?’
He nodded.
‘But the old Dawn wouldn’t have stood for it. Why don’t you just tell her to get lost?’
‘Well… I know you won’t believe this but I feel sorry for her. Lauren will never be close to her again. I hear Brenda and Ken are now talking to her but she really is pretty much on her own. Does she have any friends?’
‘Not many. There’s Pat and myself and Brian Lazenby, that television chap, and Mark.’
‘Mark? I thought he’d disappeared.’
‘He took a break but he’s been back for the last six months. He went to see Amy and she actually apologised to him. He goes to see her occasionally. I don’t suppose he’ll ever really get over her. He’ll always be there for her, I’m sure. It’s changed him though – he dresses smarter and he’s lost a bit of weight. Always liked Mark though and never blamed him for what happened.’
‘She never mentions him. She’s spoken about Brian a couple of times and I rather got the impression that he’s been good for her.’
David nodded. ‘He has. I just can’t understand why she comes to see you. Perhaps if I had a word with her?’
Dawn held up a hand. ‘No, don’t. It will all be irrelevant soon anyway. We leave April 1st.’
‘Hope that date’s not significant,’ he answered with a grin that exaggerated the lines on his face.
‘All Fools Day… it made me smile as well. It’s only three weeks away, so hopefully I won’t see her again.’
David walked around his desk and placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘You will come and see me before you go? I’ll need you to sign some papers Er… does Amy know you’ve sold the cottage?’
‘Shouldn’t think so. It was never advertised. I’ve sold it to a friend of a friend. Why?’
He ran his hand through his thinning hair. ‘So she won’t know you’re planning to leave?’
Dawn looked puzzled. ‘No. Come on David, what’s the problem?’
‘Don’t tell her, Dawn. Just don’t tell Amy that you’re leaving.’
‘David,’ she said slowly. ‘You’re starting to frighten me.’
‘Good. Better frightened and alive than brave and dead.’
She stood and picked up her bag. ‘Now you’re being silly. Can you have the papers ready by the 28th?’
‘Certainly. Bring Josh in with you. And remember what I said. Don’t let Amy know you’re leaving.’
It didn’t take David long to recount Dawn’s visit.
‘So Amy has been stalking her.’
Pat looked sick. ‘Did you say anything about Amy?’
‘Not in detail. It’s difficult isn’t it? How can I say my wife believes Amy has murdered in the past? How can I say that, without us looking complete idiots?’
‘You have to say something. Amy hates Dawn– I know that because she’s told me. What she hasn’t said is that she has been seeing her. She’s never once mentioned that. Don’t you find that a bit scary?’
He nodded. ‘I’ve told Dawn not to mention that she’s leaving. We’ve no proof that Amy killed Sonia Dawes out of spite…’
‘She killed John as well. Don’t forget that.’
‘Not in the eyes of the law.’
‘Huh. The law.’ Her tone was contemptuous. ‘What’s the law got to do with it? I know what I know and I’m worried for Dawn. I’d ask them both to come and stay here…’
‘No. We can’t do that. If Amy goes to see her, she’ll find an empty cottage. You can’t hide her away every time Amy comes round. She’ll soon add two and two together.’ He paused for a moment. ‘What are we doing, Pat?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘We’re saying that Amy is likely to murder Dawn. Are we crazy or what?’
‘Perfectly sane,’ was Pat’s response. ‘I’m surprised she’s let it drift along as long as this.’
Amy laughed at him. ‘You want to do what?’
‘Take you to the cinema. Isn’t that what one generally does on a first date?’
‘Brian, forgive me for appearing stupid but I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
He held up a finger. ‘Hang on a minute.’ He left the lounge returning moments later with a single red rose. Presenting it to her, he smiled. ‘I would like to take you out. Is that so presumptive?’ He lit a cigarette, puffing nervously at it as he waited for her response.
Amy found herself giggling.
‘Not at all. And this is lovely.’ She waved the rose around. ‘But I don’t want to date anybody. I’m too old for that sort of thing.’
‘I’m not. And it’s been over eighteen months, so I thought…’
She stared at him for a long time.
‘Are you serious? You want to date me?’ She sounded incredulous.
‘Amy – for goodness sake. I’m not asking you to go to bed with me. I’ve asked you to go to the cinema. Not only do I want to see this particular film, I want to see it with you.’
‘Okay.’
‘You mean…’
‘I mean okay, it’s a date.’
‘A proper date? Did I get it right?’
She laughed. ‘You got it right. It’ll cost you dinner before the film though – you might be behaving like a teenager but I’m a bit wiser. Dinner and a film.’
‘Done. Want the rest of them now?’
‘What?’ She looked mystified.
‘The rest of the bouquet’s in the hall.’ He left stubbing out the cigarette in an ashtray. He returned moments later with twenty-three roses.
‘They’re lovely,’ she said, her eyes shining. She stood and kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you.’
He placed his hands on her shoulders.
‘It’s my pleasure,’ he said and softly kissed her lips. ‘You deserve them.’
Dawn cried most of the way to Heathrow. Her brave words about a new start in the States now seemed like a dream. She was leaving so much behind – memories, friends, Cornwall.
David had been wonderful; he had sorted out last minute problems and was now driving them to the airport.
Pat’s tears hadn’t helped. She was convinced she’d never see Dawn and Josh again even though Dawn insisted they would come back sometimes. They also would expect visitors from England.
The har
dest part had been leaving Mayflower Cottage. John had loved the home he had bought for them and when she had turned the key in the lock for the last time, she had been unable to speak.
It was only as they neared Heathrow and she sensed the excitement building in Josh that she knew she had made the right decision.
She climbed the airliner steps and tapped Josh on the back. Together they turned and waved towards the observation platform. They could see several hands waving but couldn’t pick out David from the rest of the tiny figures.
Suddenly it didn’t matter. A new life, a new home and shared memories of a love that had lasted half a lifetime.
Amy was happy. For the first time since John’s death she thought she could see a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.
Brian had taken her out several times. They seemed to be getting on as close friends. She was no longer just John’s wife; she was Amy.
He arrived on her doorstep every weekend carrying a gift – she smiled at the memory of the little Pen Delphin rabbit he had presented to her last week. The kiss that followed was something to be relished.
She knew she was starting to soften, starting to forget Treverick because John was no longer there to remind her.
As she raised her hand to knock on the cottage door, it occurred to her that she didn’t really need this anymore. She didn’t need to feel close to John anymore. In mid-movement she made the decision not to force herself on Dawn any more. She would live with her memories and look to the future.
The lion’s head knocker had changed into an anchor.
The man who answered the door smiled at the beautiful woman standing on his doorstep.
‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Can I help you?’
‘Is Mrs Lynch in?’ Amy knew what the answer would be. She could see half of the kitchen and it was no longer Dawn’s kitchen.
‘Mrs Lynch? Are you a friend of hers?’
Even now, when it didn’t matter one way or the other, Amy couldn’t answer that question.
‘Acquaintance.’
‘Oh, that explains why you don’t know. Mrs Lynch has left.’
For a long moment Amy stared at the man.
‘Left? Has she left a forwarding address?’
‘She wants all mail forwarding to a Mr. David Farmer.’
‘Oh – I know David. I’ll get the address from him.’
She made a hurried departure, snagging her tights on a holly bush as she climbed into the car. Angry, she dropped into reverse and backed out of the drive.
The journey to Pat and David’s seemed to take forever and she cursed them every step of the way. She couldn’t rationalise her feelings; it was nothing to her if Dawn Lynch moved house. But it hurt that Pat hadn’t told her.
And now the decision not to see Dawn again had been taken out of her hands. She hit the steering wheel with the heel of her hand in frustration as she turned into Pat’s driveway.
Pat watched from the window as Amy climbed out of her car. She knew what was coming.
‘Hi, Amy.’
‘Don’t you hi Amy me,’ she snarled. ‘Where’s Dawn Lynch?’
‘Dawn Lynch? What’s it to you?’
‘Oh, come on, Pat. Don’t play games with me. You know I’ve been going to see her – she must have told you.’
‘I found out three weeks ago,’ Pat said. ‘She’d already made her plans by then and sold the cottage. I didn’t think it concerned anybody but her. If she’d wanted you to know, she would have told you.’
‘Does this mean you won’t give me her new address?’
‘Why do you want it?’
Amy visibly crumpled. ‘I don’t know,’ she sobbed. ‘I really don’t know. It was the cottage, not her. I needed to feel close to John, and now she’s sold it. I would have bought it, Pat. John’s soul is there, not at my place. I could feel him there.’
Pat put her arm around her friend and led her into the house.
‘So you don’t really need to know where she is then.’
Amy shook her head.
‘No, I suppose not. It upsets me that she never said a word about any of this.’
‘Well, to be perfectly truthful, Amy, I don’t have an address, not yet.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She’s gone to live in America. She said she would write as soon as she found something. Until then she could be anywhere.’
Amy’s eyes widened. ‘America? But why America? When that old chap said she’d moved I assumed he meant to Wadebridge, or Padstow, somewhere like that.’
‘She felt both she and Josh needed to make a new start.’
‘I can’t believe she didn’t tell me. What did she think I would do? Try and stop her?’
‘I don’t think anyone’s ever managed to stop Dawn Lynch doing exactly what she wanted. No, I really don’t know why she didn’t tell you. But why are we talking on the doorstep? Are you coming in?’
Amy turned and walked back to her car. ‘No… no, I’m going home.’ She climbed in the driver’s seat and then lowered the passenger window to speak to Pat. ‘By the way,’ she called. ’I’ve finally decided what to do with John’s Ferrari. Do you think Pilot and Lauren would like it?’
‘I’m sure they would!’ Pat gasped. ‘They’re coming over for dinner later – why don’t you join us and give it to them then?’
‘Do you mind if Brian comes?’
‘Not at all. You two an item?’
Amy laughed. ‘You sound definitely juvenile. Bye.’ She raised the window, slipped into first gear and drove away leaving Pat to stare thoughtfully after her.
She hadn’t answered. But the faint tinge of a blush in her cheeks had said it all.
Brian found Amy in the study reading through one of John’s manuscripts.
‘What’s that?’’
She looked up and smiled. She was enjoying having him around.
‘It’s Spider Web, John’s incomplete book.’
‘Is it good?’
‘What do you think? Did he ever write a bad one?’
‘No – it was a stupid question, I suppose. It’s a pity we’ll never know the twist at the end of it. That was always John’s strength, his twist endings.’ He put out his cigarette in the ashtray he was carrying.
‘But I do know it,’ she said softly.
‘You’ve found a synopsis?’
She shook her head.
‘No, John never used one. He always said it was a complete waste of time writing one because he never stuck to the planned story line. He always let the story develop in its own way. No, it’s not a synopsis, it’s me.’
‘Am I being thick? I don’t understand.’ Brian looked at her, aware of her excitement. He wanted to kiss her quite desperately.
‘It’s me. The ending is in me. I’m going to take up John’s pen and see where it leads me. I’m going to finish this book, take it to David and see what happens.’
52
‘Amy? Can you come into the office sometime this week?’
Amy smiled down the line at David’s voice. ‘Yes – have you read it?’
‘I have and we need to talk. But not on the telephone. When can you come in?’
‘Not today. I’m going to Optimum this afternoon. I’m there for the full day on Thursday. Is Wednesday any good?’
‘Two o’clock?’
‘Fine. See you then. Erm… how’s Lauren?’
‘You haven’t seen them?’ There was surprise in David’s voice.
‘Not since they said they didn’t want the Ferrari. My daughter doesn’t like me very much.’
‘Oh, I’m sure she does…’
‘Don’t talk platitudes, David. You’ve never been very good at that. So how is she?’
‘She’s fine; no problems. What will you do with the car?’
‘It’s done. I sold it. Didn’t get what it was worth, of course, which was why I wanted to give it to them. I presume Lauren thought I was trying to buy my way back into their lives.’
/>
David felt uncomfortable. Amy had virtually repeated word for word everything that Lauren had said.
‘You are in her life, Amy, whatever she may think. You brought her up.’
Amy gave a brittle laugh. ‘Did I? I seem to remember John and Brenda organising things so that I had very little to do with Lauren. Still, it’s all in the past. She’s turned out to be a daughter I’m proud of. Anyway, I’ll see you Wednesday.’
She replaced the receiver thoughtfully. He hadn’t said a word about whether he liked it or not and she ran a hand through her hair with a gesture of frustration.
Damn him.
She pulled a sheet of paper towards her. She had been running a plotline through her head for some time and she began to make further notes on the main character, expanding him. He was already very real to her.
She wanted to write. Finishing John’s book had showed her that. The one thing they hadn’t taught her was how to use a computer and she stared at it with distaste.
She, like her late husband, preferred the feel of a pencil in her hand. She recognised that if she did write a novel under her own steam she would have to have it typed. Unless…
She picked up the receiver again and dialled Mark’s number.
‘Hi.’
‘Amy?’ She heard a note in his voice that was part panic and part joy.
‘Listen, I’ve had a thought. Are you still not working?’
‘No. John’s bequest gave me a breathing space. I’ll have to give it serious thought soon, though. Why? Do you know of something?’
‘Mmmm. Would you like to work for me?’
There was a long, drawn out silence.
‘Mark? You still there?’
‘I’m still here.’ He sounded guarded. ‘What do you mean? I’d be absolutely no good at sticking flowers on furniture!’
Her laughter was infectious. ‘I didn’t think for one minute that you would be! No, I’ve finished Spider Web.’
‘Finished it? Did you know the ending?’
‘Did you?’ She was intrigued.
‘Yes. John was near enough to the end of it to have worked it out. We usually discussed from about half way through.’
‘Well, I didn’t know it, so I created my own ending. David’s got it now and as of yet I don’t know what he thinks. I’m seeing him in a couple of days. But that’s irrelevant really. I have an idea bubbling away for a novel, a different type. More of a saga. And just like John, I feel happier using a pencil. If you want the job, it’s yours.’