by Anna Jacobs
As everyone sat down for a cup of coffee, Audrey and John looked at one another self-consciously. ‘We have some news for you,’ she said, reaching for his hand.
‘Audrey has done me the honour of agreeing to become my wife,’ he said in the fussy, precise way he always spoke.
But his expression was young and happy as he exchanged smiles with Audrey and that delighted Rosalind. ‘Oh, I’m so glad for you both!’ She went across and gave them both big hugs.
Paul’s congratulations were more temperate and he tried not to show the jubilation he felt. Another stumbling block to going to America removed for him, just like that. Couldn’t be better. The cards were certainly falling in his favour. Even that damned burst of weeping had had good results. He still felt hot with shame as he thought of that.
And now they were home, they’d have none of that other nonsense. Separate bedrooms, indeed! He’d seen where she’d dumped her suitcase. What did she think he was? A celibate monk? He was nearly bursting for a screw and he’d get one out of her tonight. A bit of romance never failed with her and she was easy to arouse, always had been.
There was a ring at the door and when he went to answer it, a florist’s van was parked outside.
‘Delivery for Stevenson,’ the woman said.
He carried the red roses back into the sitting room, smiling. It’d have been better timing if the flowers had arrived after Audrey and that moon-faced old fogy had left, but never mind. You played the cards you were dealt.
‘For you,’ he said to his wife, flourishing a bow as he presented them to her.
She stared. ‘What?’
He felt a fool in that silly position and straightened up. ‘Aren’t you going to take them?’
She did so, setting them on the low table immediately, where the dark red of the roses was echoed in reflection as an even darker dried-blood colour. It made her shiver. ‘To Ros, with love from Paul,’ she read aloud and gazed at him blankly. ‘Oh.’
‘Now that’s a nice touch,’ Audrey said, leaning forward to examine the flowers. ‘Beautiful, aren’t they? Pity they don’t have a perfume, though. I always think flowers should have a perfume.’
Louise didn’t join in the chorus of admiration. Surely her mother wasn’t going to fall for that old red roses trick? She was getting very worried about what was going on. Her father was looking smug, not chastened, and her mother had become very distant and vague again, like she’d been before they went to England.
She’d seen where her mother dumped her things when they arrived here, though. In one of the spare bedrooms. And seen her father’s scowl as he watched her. So maybe there was still hope?
But these roses worried her. He was clearly trying to get back into her mother’s bed again. Oh, hell, he was up to every trick in the book, that randy bastard was. And if her mother didn’t leave him, Louise would be forced to stay with him, too, though not for long.
She would be eighteen soon and she wasn’t going back to business studies whatever he said. Nursing, she’d decided. Helping people who were sick, who really needed you – as she’d tried to help Tim, but hadn’t been able to. She’d make up for that, though, by helping others. She really would. She’d make Tim proud of her and she’d do something for which she was suited. Best of all she’d be proud of herself.
‘Well, we’d better go and leave you three to settle in,’ Audrey said, putting down her empty coffee cup. ‘I’m sorry Jenny isn’t here, but Ned certainly sounds a nice young man.’
‘He’s thirty,’ Paul cut in, ‘running to fat and already going bald. Not exactly young. And he’s a typical public school wallah. No chin and no fire in his belly.’
‘I like him,’ Rosalind said, frowning at Paul, ‘and I’m sure you will, too, when you meet him, Mum.’
‘Are they coming over for a visit, then?’ Audrey asked eagerly.
‘No. But if you two are getting married, I’d like to offer you a trip to England as a wedding present. You could go there for a honeymoon. Check Ned out for yourself. Go up to Southport for a few days, perhaps. I haven’t closed Sophie’s house. Prue is going to caretake it for me. I think she’s met a guy in Southport. I hope it works out for her.’
Louise nearly wet herself trying not to laugh at her father’s outraged expression. He’d hate her mother spending that much money on a present, even if it wasn’t his money. And he clearly didn’t know about the house in Southport still being open.
Louise escorted her grandmother out to the car, but stopped outside the front door. ‘I just want to say how sorry I am for how badly I behaved when I was staying with you, Gran. I was out of line and – well, I’m sorry. Tim told me I’d been a fool, but I had to,’ her voice wobbled for a moment at the thought of her brother and the talks they’d had, ‘had to realise that for myself.’
Audrey reached out to hug her. ‘I’m really glad to have my granddaughter back.’ She looked back towards the house. ‘Are they all right? Paul and Rosalind, I mean? They seem a bit – strained.’
‘I hope they’re not all right. He’s been rotten to her.’ Louise looked over her shoulder to check that he wasn’t nearby, and added, ‘He’s been unfaithful, actually. And she’s very upset about it.’
Audrey’s mouth dropped open in shock.
‘Don’t say I told you. I just thought that if you knew – if she needed help – you’d not say the wrong thing. You see – it was with Liz.’
There was a moment’s silence, then Audrey whispered, ‘Liz?’
‘Mmm. Him and Liz. And now she’s having a baby – Dad’s baby. It’s so sordid.’
John cleared his throat. ‘I’m glad you’ve told us, young lady. You can be sure it’ll go no further. Your poor mother!’ He shook his head. ‘And having to face it at a time like this, too.’ Then he coaxed a tearful Audrey into the car.
When they’d left, the thought that her mother wasn’t completely under his thumb yet, that she’d had the courage to offer her own mother a big wedding gift, took Louise upstairs more cheerfully to unpack her things. It felt good to be back in her own room. But it felt awful to pass Tim’s door. Not that he’d been there for ages, but still – knowing he’d never come back hurt so much.
In the kitchen, Rosalind set about washing the dishes.
Paul came in with the box of roses. ‘You haven’t put them in water yet.’
She turned to him and her voice was like ice. ‘Did you really think that cheap trick would win me over again?’
‘It wasn’t a cheap trick.’
‘Oh, yes, it was! Believe me, the only way you’ll get me into your bed at the moment will be by force!’
He threw the roses at her, muttering something which sounded like ‘Stupid bitch!’ and slammed out of the house.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The next morning, Rosalind went to the shops, partly to avoid Paul and partly because they needed some fresh fruit and vegetables. She was walking down an aisle in her favourite supermarket when she felt a hand on her arm. She looked up, saw Liz – and froze.
‘Rosalind, could we talk?’
‘No. There aren’t any words which can possibly heal the way you’ve hurt me, Liz.’
Her ex-friend paused, tears starting to trickle down her cheeks. ‘Please!’
‘No. I wish you well, I really do. And I hope the child brings you joy. Is Bill going to accept it?’
Liz nodded, her eyes welling with tears.
‘Good. I’ll say goodbye, then.’
There was uncertainty in Liz’s face now. ‘You seem – different.’
‘Well, a lot has happened to me lately, hasn’t it? My whole life has changed.’ And was still changing.
‘I’m sorry about Tim.’
‘Yes.’ Determinedly, she pushed Liz’s trolley aside. ‘Goodbye.’ And walked away, her back straight. She could never forgive Liz for what she’d done. Not in a million years. And the encounter had made her realise that she couldn’t forgive Paul, either. Just – could – not.
She cut short the shopping trip, feeling uncomfortable among the cheerful crowds.
When she got home, she saw a strange car outside the house with a sticker on its side saying DOOLIFFE & JONES – REAL ESTATE. She frowned as she drove into the garage. What was that doing here? Real estate salesmen didn’t usually call in person unless invited. Usually they pushed leaflets through your letter box. Dozens of leaflets every year. Such a waste.
When she went inside, Paul was sitting talking to a woman. She was blonde and ultra-smart, and there were papers – forms, they looked like – spread out all over the table.
She hated that table, Rosalind decided suddenly, hated its nasty, chilly surface that took all the warmth out of people whose reflections were trapped in it.
Paul stood up. ‘Ros! I didn’t expect you back so soon.’
She looked from one to the other. ‘Obviously.’
He turned to the woman. ‘Please excuse me a minute.’ Then he put his arm round Rosalind’s shoulders and led her through into the kitchen. ‘I was just getting a couple of valuations. I wouldn’t have done anything without consulting you. But you need to think ahead when you’re selling houses and—’
‘You should have spoken to me first. I haven’t decided anything yet.’
‘I’ll – um – ask her to leave.’
‘Do that.’
When he’d left, she buried her face in her hands. He was walking on eggshells, tiptoeing around her, but it wasn’t working. It wouldn’t work, either, whatever he did. The decision she’d been pushing to the back of her mind because it terrified her surfaced suddenly, complete with answer.
They’d both changed too much. It was too late to mend their marriage.
Worst of all, she didn’t want to mend their marriage. A vision of Jonathon floated in front of her and she smiled involuntarily. She wanted to be with him, needed a gentler man than Paul at this season of her life. It all seemed so much clearer now she was home. No, not home. This wasn’t her home any longer and never would be again.
But back in Australia she knew where she stood, somehow.
When Paul came into the kitchen, he was rubbing his hands together, looking bright and cheerful. ‘You’re right, Ros – Rosalind. It’s too soon to put the house on the market. We’ll look into all that together, once we’ve settled in.’
As far as she was concerned, his cheerful confidence was the last straw.
He didn’t speak, just sat down and smiled. Confidently. He was humouring her. He’d soon be playing games with her, as soon as he felt it was safe to move on.
‘Was I intended to find out yet about selling the house, Paul?’
‘I wasn’t selling it, just getting it valued. I told you.’
He came and put an arm round her, planting a kiss on her cheek. Impatiently she shook him off.
He looked at her through narrowed eyes. ‘Something else wrong?’
‘Many things. You know that.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Ros, don’t make such a meal of it. We’ve agreed to work things out, but we won’t be able to do that if you keep taking a huff at the slightest thing. I can’t change completely overnight.’
He moved towards the coffee plunger. ‘There’s something else we need to discuss. I didn’t want to bother you yet – wanted to give you more time to get over things.’
‘How kind!’
‘But maybe we should lay all the cards on the table. No, you go and sit down. I’ll deal with this. It’s nice to be among our own possessions again, isn’t it?’
‘How would you know? You’ve spent very little time here. I’m amazed you could even find your way home from the airport.’
He clapped one hand to his chest, as if wounded. ‘Sharp, Ros, bit too sharp, don’t you think?’
‘Rosalind.’ She had decided to correct him every time he shortened her name. It might be petty, but it satisfied something inside her.
He rolled his eyes at the ceiling and said nothing.
When he came over to the table with a steaming mug, she shoved the bags of shopping piled there aside, her mind on her problems. One fell onto the floor and glass tinkled as something had broken.
‘Steady on!’
She shrugged and took the cup, holding it in her hands as she waited for him to explain the ‘something else’. And when he didn’t, she didn’t speak, either. She used his own tactic and waited him out this time. Enjoyed doing it, too.
In the end he sighed and said, ‘The thing is, I’ve been offered a promotion.’
‘So? What difference will that make to the house? Why do we need to sell it? You surely don’t want somewhere bigger?’
‘We need to sell it because the new job is in the old US of A. We’ll need to live there, all of us. We’ll probably have to take out American citizenship eventually. The chairman doesn’t think there’ll be much problem about that, not if the company sponsors me. It’s good news, isn’t it? I’m on the chairman’s senior team now. Can’t get much higher than that.’
‘Have you accepted the promotion already, then?’
‘Of course I have. On the spot. You don’t turn down an offer like that.’
‘Without asking me.’ She said it as a statement, not a question. He hadn’t asked her when he became the chairman’s international rover, either.
‘I was going to tell you after—’
‘Tell me – not ask my opinion, let alone listen to my views.’ She stared at him, feeling in control, for once.
He frowned. ‘You wouldn’t understand my career needs, hon. You’ll have to trust me for that. And anyway, I thought you’d be glad to make a fresh start. On all counts.’
‘In the USA.’ She looked round slowly, making him wait, then said quietly, ‘The answer is no.’ She didn’t need to shout any more. The last of her emotional shackles had just fallen off.
‘Ros, you can’t—’
‘Rosalind.’
‘Stop doing that, dammit. I’ll get used to it. No need to pick me up on it every time.’ He picked up his mug of coffee.
‘I saw Liz at the shops.’ She saw the mug jerk away from his lips and coffee splash onto his hand. ‘The baby doesn’t show yet, but she has a softer look on her face. She wanted to talk. I refused.’
‘Bit harsh of you. After all, none of us is perfect.’
‘No. And I’m not setting myself up as perfect. Far from it. I’m just not able to consider her a friend any more.’
‘Your choice. But think about this: Jenny’s left the nest for good, your mother’s getting married again, your best friend is lost to you. It seems to me a most appropriate time to make a move. Another change of season, eh? A big one, this time.’
She smiled at him, feeling sadness at this finale to a relationship that had started with so much hope. The biggest and most important of all the recent changes were inside her, and he hadn’t really noticed them. She’d gained a tiny bit of wisdom, she hoped – and some courage, too. ‘It is time for us to move on, Paul. You’re right about that.’
He gave his snarling tiger’s smile of triumph. ‘So you’ll come to the USA with me, make a fresh start?’
Upstairs on the landing Louise clenched her fists, fighting not to burst into tears.
Rosalind let the silence drag on for a minute or two, till the smile on his face faded a little and puzzlement crept in. ‘No, Paul. I won’t be coming to the USA. I’m definitely leaving you. I’m going back to England to live in my aunt’s house for a while and think about my options.’
Suddenly his expression was ugly. ‘Oh, now that you have the money, you’ve suddenly got options, have you? I suppose you stayed with me before because I was the best option at the time – with the most money to offer you.’
She shrank away from him, he looked so vicious. Then she got angry with herself for reacting like that and sat up straighter, staring right back at him across the kitchen table. ‘Actually, my favourite option has nothing to do with money. I met a man while I was over there, you see
, Paul. A very kind man. We get on really well and—’
Upstairs Louise was weeping helplessly, relief turning her into a jelly. Oh, thank you, she kept murmuring. Thank you, thank you, God, or fate, or whatever you are up there. She’s going to escape.
And so am I.
Paul’s mouth dropped open, then he made a quick recovery, thumping the table with the edge of his clenched fist. ‘So you’ve been unfaithful to me, you bitch! And there you were going on at me, treating me like a pariah.’
‘No, I haven’t been unfaithful. Not physically, anyway, which is the only thing you’d understand. I wouldn’t do that while we were still married.’
‘Who is it? Do I know him?’ He snapped his fingers suddenly. ‘Not that thin streak of nothing. That blue-blooded waffly creature with the bossy sister?’
‘Yes.’ A smile suddenly overtook Rosalind at this description of Harry and she felt warm inside, absolutely right about what she was doing. ‘Yes. It’s Jonathon.’
Paul thumped the table again and one of the coffee cups fell off it, shattering, scattering brown liquid on the grey and white tiled floor. Neither of them bothered to pick it up.
When the silence continued, Paul swiped at one of the carrier bags of food that was still sitting on the table, knocking that down on top of the coffee. ‘Rich is he, your precious Jonathon? Richer than me? As well as better connected? You’re more cunning than I’d realised, Ros. Made very sure of your options, didn’t you, before you decided to leave me?’
She tried to explain, knowing it would be useless, but at least she tried. ‘Jonathon’s quite poor actually. That house of his is a sort of trust. No one can dispose of it, just guard it for future generations.’ She would be proud to help with that if he’d let her, though she wanted to spend time in Australia, too, didn’t think she could abandon her country entirely.
‘So he’s after your money, then.’
She smiled, very certain of that. ‘No, he isn’t.’
‘He is, you know.’
‘Is that the only attraction I can offer him? I think not. Anyway I’m not going to live with him at first. I’m going back to live in Aunt Sophie’s house.’ She waved one hand around her. ‘To make things easy, I’ll agree to sell this place as soon as you like and split our possessions down the middle. I’ve never really liked the house. It’s a cold and heartless. You chose it, not me.’