Change of Season
Page 31
He folded his arms. ‘Our younger daughter is staying with me, then.’
‘No, I’m not.’ Louise came into the room, trying to look calm, but actually feeling a bit shivery inside. He was looking so black, like a thunderstorm about to crash down on them. She’d crept downstairs in case her mother needed help, but she wasn’t having them decide about her future without her being involved.
Rosalind stood up and Paul followed suit, moving to stand between her and her daughter.
Louise ducked away from him and darted across to join her mother.
‘I doubt you’ll get custody – even if you’re foolish enough to try,’ Rosalind said thoughtfully. ‘I believe children get a say in such things these days as long as they’re old enough to understand what’s happening, which Louise clearly is. And anyway, she’ll be eighteen in another month or so. You couldn’t even get the case to court before her birthday.’
‘I want to come with you,’ Louise said. ‘You will let me, won’t you, Mum?’
Paul made an inarticulate noise and grabbed her. ‘You’re staying with me from now on.’
When she struggled against him, kicking him in the shins, he slapped her face.
Rosalind moved to stand between them. ‘Stop this, Paul.’
When he raised his hand a second time, she reacted automatically, moving quickly, as her instructor had once taught her, and taking him by surprise. She kneed Paul hard in the groin before jabbing the side of her hand into his neck. Then she watched with intense satisfaction as he folded up with a quiet ‘Oof!’ and rolled about on the floor, agony written all over him, unable to breathe properly.
‘I went to self-defence classes one year, Paul. Don’t you remember? I was worried because you were away so much and I got nervous going out at night on my own. I’ve always wondered if I’d have the guts to use the techniques. Now I know.’
‘Ros—’ His voice was still half-choked and he was rocking about, his hands splayed protectively around his genitals.
‘My name is Rosalind,’ she said firmly, ‘and I think we’ve said everything there is to say. If you’ll move out of this house, I’ll get it ready to sell. I can make a big difference to the price if I have things looking really nice – or if you won’t move out, we can lose a lot of money. That’s up to you.’
He glared at her as he tried to straighten up and couldn’t.
She put an arm round her daughter’s shoulders. ‘Come on, love, let’s go and tell my mother our news. Later today, when your father has moved out, we’ll come back and start getting the place ready to sell.’ She looked back at Paul, who had dragged himself to a chair, but was still clutching his crotch and looking shocked as well as winded.
‘I’m sorry it’s ended like this. But there’s no hope of my staying with you, whether Jonathon and I work something out or not. You see, you don’t seem to have learnt anything from what’s been happening. Didn’t you see how alone you were in my family portrait? No one was standing near you, not even your wife.’
‘What the hell has that embroidery to do with this?’
‘Everything. It mirrors life, our life.’
But he didn’t understand that. She’d take the family portrait with her when she went to her mother’s, though, just for safety. What a good thing most of her embroideries were still in England.
‘I’ll fight you – for everything,’ he rasped. ‘I’ve earned – the money that paid – for all this.’
‘But I raised your children and played my part in the marriage. I believe the courts always take that into account.’ She had seen a few of her friends’ marriages break up over the years and knew the ropes. Had never expected to walk down the same path herself, but now found the prospect inviting. Very.
‘You didn’t do a very good job with the children!’ he snarled. ‘Tim was a total failure. I blame you for that.’
Pain shafted through her again, as it did every time she thought of her son. ‘I blame myself, too, and I always shall, but I think I’ve time to make a difference with Louise.’ She looked at her daughter, who was smiling proudly at her, not even looking at her father. ‘I don’t want to force you into anything, though, Lou.’ She used the pet name Tim had sometimes called his sister by.
‘I want to come with you, Mum. I need you.’
‘I’m glad. Will you nip up and fetch my suitcase? And yours. Just in case your father doesn’t move out.’
Louise ran off.
Paul found the breath suddenly to yell, ‘Well, who wants an old-fashioned lump like you for a wife. I’ll find myself a new one who’s twice as smart – in every way!’
‘I hope you do. And she’ll ditch you as soon as you lose your edge. You’ll deserve each other.’ Then she turned her back and began walking out.
After Rosalind pulled the front door closed behind her, however, she clutched her daughter’s arm and took a deep, shuddering breath. ‘Get me to the car, Lou. I feel sick.’
‘Hold on to me, Mum. Don’t let him see that you’re chucking a wobbly.’
They walked out together, arms linked, each carrying a suitcase.
‘You’ll have to drive. I’m shaking.’ Rosalind slid into the front passenger seat. She sat up very straight until they’d turned the corner, then slumped down and began to weep noisily.
When Louise stopped the car and tried to cuddle her, she held on to her daughter for a few moments, then blinked away the tears. ‘Changes as big as this hurt like hell,’ she said huskily. ‘But it’s done now – well, the decision is taken, anyway.’
‘You – won’t change your mind? About leaving him, I mean?’
‘Oh, no. That is quite definite, whatever else happens. Only I had to come here to – to close things off. How do you think you’ll like living in England?’
Louise started up the engine again. ‘I don’t know. But it’ll be better than living with him. I still want to train as a nurse. I dare say I can do it there just as well as here.’
‘I think you’ll make a good nurse. I’ll help you all I can.’
‘Thanks, Mum. But until I can start training, I’ll be getting a job. I’m going to stand on my own feet from now on.’
‘I’m glad. It’s what I want for you – and for myself.’
As they drove away, Rosalind not only felt closer to her daughter but at peace beneath the sadness. If it didn’t work out with Jonathon, she’d still be better off without Paul. And she had her embroidery. George Didburin was very enthusiastic about her future as an artist. She meant to work very hard, really make something of herself. It was about time.
She sat up straighter. She’d begin another piece soon. A woman – on her own, head up, wind blowing. Herself. But not in pastel colours. That was what was wrong with the family portrait. Her own figure. She was such a faded creature in it. She would do another half-figure of herself in brighter colours and place the two Rosalinds back to back, as she’d once told Tim, almost like Siamese twins.
Then, and only then, when she’d seen herself as she had become, would she be finished with the past and ready to step forward into the future. Whatever that might be.
LIFELIKE EFFECTS
Almost without exception, extant work reveals remarkable inventiveness and dexterity, displayed in a myriad of small embroidered slips and constructed artefacts, and an even greater ingenuity in their assembly into a finished piece of work.
(Hirst, p.8)
ASSEMBLING THE EMBROIDERY
[Like life] A raised embroidery is built up in a series of layers … Succeeding layers must follow in the correct order of precedence. In reality, the process is a continuous one …
(Hirst, p.74)
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About the Author
ANNA JACOBS is the author of over eighty novels and is addicted to storytelling. She grew up in Lancashire, emigrated to Australia in the 1970s and writes stories set in both countries. She loves to return to England regularly to visit her family and soak up the history. She has two grown-up daughters and a grandson, and lives with her husband in a spacious home near the Swan Valley, the earliest wine-growing area in Western Australia. Her house is crammed with thousands of books.
annajacobs.com
By Anna Jacobs
THE PENNY LAKE SERIES
Changing Lara • Finding Cassie
THE PEPPERCORN SERIES
Peppercorn Street • Cinnamon Gardens
Saffron Lane • Bay Tree Cottage
Christmas in Peppercorn Street
THE HONEYFIELD SERIES
The Honeyfield Bequest • A Stranger in Honeyfield
Peace Comes to Honeyfield
THE HOPE TRILOGY
A Place of Hope • In Search of Hope
A Time for Hope
THE GREYLADIES SERIES
Heir to Greyladies • Mistress of Greyladies
Legacy of Greyladies
THE WILTSHIRE GIRLS SERIES
Cherry Tree Lane • Elm Tree Road
Yew Tree Gardens
Winds of Change
Moving On
The Cotton Lass and Other Stories
Change of Season
Copyright
Allison & Busby Limited
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London W1F 8AN
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First published in 2003.
This ebook edition published in Great Britain by Allison & Busby in 2019.
Copyright © 2003 by ANNA JACOBS
The moral right of the author is hereby asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent buyer.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 978–0–7490–2516–8