59 Memory Lane

by Celia Anderson

  ‘There are two of ’em in there. Tristram’s too old for me but …’

  Julia fixes Vi with her best mean stare and the other woman dries up at last. Luckily, Tamsin shouts at them all to watch her as she climbs up the compost heap, and Vi and Andy jump up to stop her covering her best dress with cabbage slime and worse.

  Emily opens her eyes wide and puts her head on one side. ‘Did Vi touch a nerve there, Gran?’ she says.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Julia snaps back. ‘How could anybody ever replace your grandpa?’

  As she speaks, Tristram comes out of the house to call them for dinner. Julia looks up at him, and he returns her gaze without smiling. Has he overheard? And if he did catch Julia’s drift, is she pleased that she’s made her position clear … or not?

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  The final parts of the plan for Tristram’s celebration come together at speed once Gina and Vince are sure the weather’s taken a turn for the better and that it might last long enough for a barbecue. Andy, Vi and Emily all get text messages while Tristram is still with them for dinner. The pinging of the three phones almost in unison makes Tristram tut loudly.

  ‘I should have confiscated those dratted machines before we started eating,’ he says. ‘Colin and I didn’t slave in the kitchen for hours so that you could all distract yourselves with trivia.’

  Fortunately, his disgust stops any of them looking at their messages while he’s still around, and when Julia gets a call on the landline after Tristram’s dragged Colin off for a nightcap at the pub on the way home she’s able to confirm three of them will be there but that Emily’s worried she’s still contagious.

  ‘Gina says you’ll be fine. She’s googled the chickenpox virus. You’re OK if it’s five days since the spots first appeared and you haven’t got any new ones. The party’s on Sunday evening so you’ve still got nearly two days to get better.’

  ‘But I look hideous, Gran. I can’t go to a party looking like this.’

  ‘You’ll be fine. Wear that dress again; it covers most of the spots. I’ll put it in the wash tonight if you like so it’ll be ready for then. It’s a good job you were always leaving clothes here. You can slap a bit of make-up over the worst ones on your face.’

  ‘Mmm. I suppose so.’

  ‘You mustn’t miss it if you feel well enough to go. It’s not every day a man turns eighty and still has enough friends to have a crazy beach barbecue. She’s a marvel, Tristram’s girl,’ says Julia. ‘If I were organising a big do like this I’d need to have the time, date, menu and guest list sorted weeks before.’

  ‘All the food that could be bought and made in advance is already in Gina’s friends’ freezers, and she’s been baking at different people’s houses all week,’ says Vi. ‘I saw her yesterday and she says the main problem’s going to be getting Tristram out of the way for long enough to get the last bits done.’

  Emily grins. ‘Well, I reckon Colin’s going to be hanging around for a few days. Were you listening to him raving about how much he loves it here? We’d better get him to ask Tristram to take him somewhere up the coast at the vital time.’

  ‘Gina must have already thought of that, surely? She wouldn’t risk him finding out too soon after all this secrecy.’

  ‘She’s relying on him doing his usual trip to town tomorrow to give her more time. She plans to give him a huge list of tricky things to buy. But if Colin steps in to help on the party day, they can do a sightseeing tour. I’ll ring him when they’ve had a chance to get back to The Shack.’

  ‘Does it seem weird having your boss hanging around, Em?’ asks Andy. ‘You weren’t expecting him, were you?’

  ‘No and no,’ she says. ‘It’s good to see him away from the office. He’s normally verging on the workaholic so it was a surprise to see him, but I think there might be more to this holiday than just wanting to talk to me and to visit his family. He’s not looked well for a while. Maybe this is his way of giving himself permission to take a break.’

  ‘He’s carrying a lot of extra weight,’ says Vi, sighing heavily, ‘and he’s got that flushed look that my Malcom had before he had his stroke. He was dead two weeks later.’

  Andy sees the alarm on Emily’s face and curses Vi inwardly. She never thinks before she speaks. ‘I’m sure Colin’s just ready for a good rest,’ he says. ‘A holiday down here with plenty of fresh air and exercise might be just what he needs to take stock. Vi, is there any chance you could take Tamsin back for me and get her in the bath? I’ll be over soon but I promised Julia I’d hammer down the felt on the shed roof before I go home. The rain’s been seeping in.’

  ‘OK, the young ’un’s going to need some scrubbing tonight. She’s been making mud pies for the last half-hour. She’s only in her vest and pants because I told her not to ruin her dress. Good job it’s still warm outside.’

  Vi heads outside and Andy rolls his eyes at Emily as he hears his daughter’s fierce protests at being taken away from her sludgy cookery. ‘But I haven’t cooked the pies yet,’ she howls. Vi doesn’t stand for any nonsense and they’re away over the road in the space of five minutes.

  Andy gets the shed roof job done quickly and comes back into the kitchen to say good night to Julia. She’s reading one of the letters and looking pensive.

  ‘This one’s about Kathryn’s second baby. The poor little scrap had croup very badly all through every winter. I’ve sent Emily to bed, by the way. She looked shattered.’

  ‘Try not to worry about her so much,’ says Andy. ‘She’s loads better. Although I know what you’re thinking; I’m a fine one to talk about not worrying.’

  ‘You’re getting more relaxed now, though – a bit, anyway,’ Julia says.

  Andy thinks about this and isn’t sure if it’s true. He still panics if Tamsin seems off-colour.

  Julia seems to be guessing his train of thought because she adds, ‘Everybody worries about their children, love. That feeling doesn’t go away, even when they’re fully grown and have long ago flown the nest.’

  ‘I wonder if I’ll ever have any more kids,’ he blurts out.

  Julia looks at him with her head on one side. ‘Not unless you take some drastic action,’ she says. ‘Or not with Emily, anyway. She thinks you’ve still got a thing for Candice and she’s worried about coming between you and Tam.’

  ‘What? I’ve never had a thing for Candice!’

  ‘Haven’t you?’

  He feels his face burning. ‘Well, not a thing kind of thing.’

  ‘That’s not the impression she gave Emily when she rang her.’

  ‘Candice rang Emily? But why would she do that?’

  Julia stays silent. Andy turns to leave. ‘I’m going to phone Candice right now,’ he says.

  ‘Good idea,’ says Julia sweetly, raising a hand to wave goodbye. When Andy’s safely out of the way, Julia rummages for the letter she was reading again. Something’s niggling at her mind. Croup. Now why is the mention of that horrible childhood ailment ringing bells? She goes over to the bookshelf and pulls out her mother’s old medical dictionary. It’s well-thumbed and tatty. Julia’s mother used it like a bible when anyone was even slightly off-colour.

  She looks up croup and finds that the symptoms are often similar to those of asthma. That’s it! She remembers a reference in one of Will’s letters to Charles’s chronic breathing difficulties. May used to make blackberry vinegar for Charles was addicted to it. Well, that’s quite a sweet thing to do, and maybe suggests she was fonder of her husband than everyone thought.

  There was something else much more significant in one of Will’s other letters, but Julia’s forgotten what it was. Something relating to that last voyage he’d planned with Charles. She reaches for the pile of letters she asked permission to bring over from May’s to study more closely. She begins her search. She has to start somewhere.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  The first thing Emily is aware of when she wakes on Sunday morning is the sunshine st
reaming through the gap in her bedroom curtains. It makes patterns on the wooden floor and warms her pillow. The birds are calling to each other and the sea is inching up the beach. Gina has been very careful to check the tides so that there will be enough sand for her guests to spread out on, and if the sun is this strong so early in the morning, there’s a very good chance that it’ll be a night to remember, with dancing in the moonlight and lots of ice-cold prosecco flowing.

  Emily sighs. Why did she have to go and get chickenpox just when she needs to look and feel her best? Candice is bound to be at the party, wearing as little as possible, no doubt. Emily’s blue cover-all dress is going to be disgustingly hot but she’s too spotty to show any more flesh without putting people off their canapés.

  She rolls out of bed and goes over to the wardrobe, flicking through the hangers to see if some wonderful, flimsy and yet decorously long-sleeved and high-necked frock might be lurking in there. It isn’t, and she lets out a howl of frustration.

  ‘What’s wrong, darling?’ Julia shouts from the landing.

  ‘I’m like bloody Cinderella. I can’t go to the ball because I’ve got nothing cool enough to wear.’

  Julia comes in, her forehead creased with a frown. ‘Cool, as in temperature … or the other sort?’

  ‘Both. I need to talk to Andy properly tonight. And first I’ve got to convince Colin to let me work part-time from the London office. I’ve decided to stay in Pengelly, at least for the next few months, and see how it goes. But if I feel awful and I look a mess too, I’m not going to be able to do it very well.’

  ‘That’s wonderful news, darling! It doesn’t matter how you look, though, does it? Surely it’s what you’re going to say to both of them that matters?’

  ‘Well, yes, in a perfect world, but how confident would you feel covered in crusty blisters, Gran?’

  ‘I see where you’re coming from. Right, follow me. This situation calls for pushing the boat out.’

  Julia goes back to her own room and when Emily catches her up, she’s reaching up to get a huge suitcase that’s sitting on the top of her wardrobe. Emily helps her to lower it to the floor. It’s dusty but not very heavy. Julia blows the worst of the dust off and opens it carefully. Inside are several tissue-paper-wrapped parcels.

  ‘I couldn’t bear to get rid of these,’ Julia says, reaching for the top one. ‘Your grandpa and I used to go to quite a few parties when we were younger.’

  She unfolds the paper and lifts out a strappy dress, long and flimsy, patterned with hazy, overlapping circles in shades of silver and pale lilac. The next one is shorter but equally delicate. There are three stunning dresses in all. One’s clearly meant for winter parties, being deep red with sparkles. Another is knee length and very pink. The silver one is perfect.

  ‘If this fits, could you wear your pale purple pashmina with it?’ suggests Julia. ‘It’s thin and gauzy enough not to make you too hot and it matches perfectly.’

  ‘Oh, yes! I’ll go and try it on.’

  Emily rushes back to her bedroom and slips into the dress as quickly as possible. It’s a good fit, and almost reaches the floor. She rummages in a drawer for the pashmina and drapes it over her shoulders, undoing her plait and shaking her head. With her hair loose, there’s not much spotty skin to be seen. A bit of foundation and some lipstick, May’s elaborate necklace and some silver earrings – it could work …

  Julia knocks on the door and pops her head round. ‘Oh!’ is all she says, but her eyes are shining.

  ‘Thank you, lovely, lovely Gran,’ says Emily, kissing her. ‘You’re my fairy godmother now too.’

  ‘You shall go to the ball, Cinders.’

  They hug warmly, and Emily has one more look at herself in the wardrobe mirror. She’ll do.

  ‘I just wish we had the ring. It’d be the finishing touch,’ says Julia sadly. ‘Still, we will, one day.’

  ‘Will we? How?’

  ‘There’s got to be a clue in one of the letters. And I’ll find it when I really get stuck into writing my book.’

  Emily says nothing, but her shining eyes make Julia’s heart sing.

  ‘I’m just looking through a few of the ones I haven’t read yet,’ she says. ‘Sit on the bed with me and help for five minutes, would you? I want to find a particular date.’

  ‘Why?’ Emily sits down and reaches for a heap of envelopes.

  ‘No, wait. I’ve looked at those. It’s the time around when Will went away that I want to read.’

  She names the date and both start to search. They work together in silence for a while, until Emily holds out a letter. ‘Try this one,’ she says.

  Julia opens it. She reads aloud:

  Dear Don,

  Well, he’s gone. I never thought our Will would actually leave us but it’s all happened in a rush and he’s in Ireland now, starting his new life. Don, I miss him so much. He was such fun. Mother is distraught.

  Why do you think this has happened? It seemed to all stem from that last visit to you. Did something go on down there that I don’t know about? I want to ask Julia about it but I know now isn’t a good time. I wrote to her to say how sorry I was about her mother.

  Don, should one of us go over to Ireland and try and persuade Will to come back? He didn’t even say goodbye properly, just spent all his last days at the Catholic church praying.

  Write soon, please,

  Your loving sister,

  Kathryn

  ‘Is this what you were looking for?’ Emily asks.

  Julia frowns. ‘Sort of. I really need something from Elsie, because she was down here with Will. I’ve never seen the letters from that time; I was preoccupied with my mother.’

  They hunt again. Emily’s dying to go and get ready for the party but Julia’s totally absorbed in the task. After a few minutes, Emily holds up another one. ‘Bingo,’ she says. ‘Shall I read it out?’

  Julia nods, very pale now.

  I know you won’t want to hear this, Don, because you said again in your last letter you just want us all to move on and stop talking about the ring, but I’m convinced Will knows a lot more than he’s letting on, and it’s somehow all tied up with that horrible husband of May Rosevere’s. And yes, you shouldn’t speak ill of the dead but that man was poisonous.

  I’ve gone over and over in my mind what happened on our last visit when Charles drowned and I’ve come to the conclusion he was probably blackmailing our Will and got the ring out of him. Will isn’t a bad lad but he’s weak. He was under Charles’s spell and that man was always on the lookout for ways to make money. May kept him short, I reckon; she was the one holding the purse strings and Charles had expensive tastes. It’s my opinion he had Mother’s ring and sold it. We’ll never see it again.

  Will isn’t answering my letters or calls. I’m in two minds whether to go over to Ireland and confront him with this, to sort it out once and for all.

  Julia looks up, dazed. ‘I’m doing a lot of reading between the lines,’ she says, ‘but I have an awful feeling that Will was involved with May’s husband’s death.’

  ‘You can’t be serious? But Will’s still alive, isn’t he? Are you suggesting … murder?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe. Or it could still have been a tragic accident. Should I do anything, Em? Everyone assumed Charles did away with himself on that stormy night because he was convinced he was dying of cancer, like his father.’

  Emily thinks hard. Gran’s gradually getting back on an even keel, Uncle Will is in some far-flung village in Southern Ireland, allegedly crippled with gout and arthritis, which was the reason he gave for not coming to her grandfather’s funeral. Would it serve any purpose to investigate more? She makes an impulsive decision.

  ‘Leave it, Gran. Gramps must have worked this out too, and he didn’t take any action. Neither should we. It’s over. Perhaps he knew something about the ring as well, as he had the empty box?’

  ‘I’ve already thought about that. But he would have given it to me if h
e had it.’

  ‘But what if he didn’t have it but he knew where it had gone and couldn’t do anything?’

  Julia frowns. ‘It’s all just guesswork. We might never know what happened.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. Let’s live life now, and not look over our shoulders.’

  Julia smiles rather shakily and reaches out for a hug. ‘Darling Em, I really think you might be right,’ she says, ‘but I would so love to have that ring.’

  ‘Gran, I know you always thought the ring was lovely, but maybe it’s time to let go of the idea of getting it back? It’s making you anxious. Is it worth the worry?’

  ‘Yes, it is. The ring would bring me peace of mind, I’m sure of it. I can’t explain exactly, but my memory needs it. The stones are lucky.’

  ‘Surely that’s a bit of an old wives’ tale?’

  Emily sees Julia’s mouth tighten into a hard line and wonders if she’s said too much.

  ‘I’m not in my dotage yet and I’m not dotty,’ says Julia. ‘I’ve researched opals. They’re healing stones. Memory loss is one of the problems they can help with.’

  ‘But you—’

  ‘I don’t want to discuss it any more. We’re going to go out and enjoy ourselves now. If I’m meant to have the ring, I’ll find it somehow.’

  Tristram’s party is in full swing when Emily, May and Julia arrive. Emily has fetched her car down the hill, brought May across the road and driven them all there, because she’s still not enjoying wine much, even though she’s otherwise better.

  Julia has picked a cocktail frock with lacy sleeves for herself. It’s midnight blue, with a sweetheart neckline and nipped in waist. She’s wearing low heels and her very best filigree jewellery. May has gone for sparkly shoes and an ankle-length crimson silk dress that floats around her legs as she walks.

  ‘Is that vintage?’ Emily asks admiringly as she escorts May into The Shellfish Shack.

  ‘Everything about me is vintage, dear,’ May answers. ‘You should know that by now.’

  ‘Wow. You three look gorgeous,’ Andy says, coming to meet them. He’s in the navy jacket and trousers he wore for his date with Emily, with a white cotton shirt that shows off his healthy tan. Emily swallows hard. She wants to reach up and touch his stubbly chin, to slide her arms around his waist, to dance with him on the beach.