Forgotten

by Susan Lewis

  Matilda nodded mildly and picked up her glass again. ‘I’m starting to feel a bit squiffy,’ she warned Theo.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be ready to catch you,’ he assured her.

  Laughing, she sipped her drink and smiled tenderly as she watched Lisa reaching for David’s hand. ‘So am I allowed to ask about the dress?’ she enquired.

  ‘Not in front of David,’ Lisa replied, ‘but I can promise you it’s not a Scarlett O’Hara number, nor will there be a veil.’ Experiencing a rush of euphoria as she pictured what it was actually like, she looked at David and wanted to hug him madly for making her so happy.

  ‘What about the honeymoon?’ Amy asked. ‘Any decisions on that yet?’

  ‘Good question,’ David replied. ‘You were about to tell me,’ he reminded Lisa.

  ‘You mean you aren’t surprising her?’ Matilda protested.

  ‘I would if I could decide where to take someone who’s been everywhere. It’s best that she chooses, preferably somewhere she’s always wanted to go but hasn’t got round to yet.’

  Matilda was clearly pleased with the answer. ‘There you are, my girl, the world’s your oyster, so where will it be?’

  ‘Actually,’ Lisa said, ‘I’m probably going to surprise you all, because I’ve been giving it a lot of thought, and it occurred to me that while I’ve been jetting all over the globe for years, I’ve never really seen anything of England. So, where I’d like to go for my honeymoon is a place everyone always says is stunning and that I really ought to visit before I die.’

  ‘Which is?’ David prompted.

  Her eyes were sparkling. ‘The Lake District,’ she announced.

  David blinked, while the others murmured bemused approval, mixed with a suspicion that it might be a joke.

  Theo was the first to say, ‘It’s a great choice. We’ve been there several times, and we love it, don’t we?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Amy confirmed.

  ‘Have you ever been?’ Lisa asked David.

  He shook his head. ‘Actually, no, I haven’t.’

  Her smile was dazzling. ‘Then we can discover it together, and if it’s OK with you I’d rather not have all the fancy five-star Michelin nonsense, because that’s how I always travel. I know, I know, I shouldn’t complain, and I’m not, but I’d love to go to a place that’s just a charming, bijou hotel with sumptuous beds, gorgeous views of a lake and a real sense of … of … What’s the word I’m looking for?’

  They all looked at one another and seemed to go blank.

  ‘Intimacy?’ Matilda suggested.

  ‘That’s it!’ and everyone laughed. ‘Intimacy,’ Lisa repeated softly, looking at David.

  His eyes were shining. ‘Then the Lake District it shall be,’ he said, saluting her with his glass. ‘Shall we choose together where we stay, or will you leave it to me?’

  She gave it some thought, then leaning forward to kiss him, she said, ‘I’m happy to put myself in your hands. I know you won’t let me down.’

  ‘No pressure there then,’ Theo commented under his breath, and once again everyone laughed.

  Chapter Five

  IT WAS USUAL for Miles to stay with Dee when he came to the constituency, mainly so they could prepare ahead of time for David’s surgeries or town hall meetings, or whatever other business was at hand. Tonight, Rosalind had decided to join them, bringing Lawrence with her, who was in the next room on Dee’s computer. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was hoping to gain from coming here, apart from a reassurance from Miles, perhaps, that he too considered Lisa Martin an extremely bad influence on her father.

  So far, though, Miles had hardly committed himself on anything, which wasn’t untypical, but at least Sally, Rosalind’s closest friend, who’d come along too, loaded up with Lemsips and Kleenex, hadn’t been backward in steering the subject round to where Rosalind wanted it to be.

  ‘It seems to me,’ Sally was saying, her naturally ruddy cheeks flushed an even deeper colour than usual, thanks to her lingering flu and the wine, ‘that he’s so besotted with the woman at the moment that he’s hardly thinking about anything else.’

  ‘Which would be why he forgot to tell Dee that Miles was coming at six this evening,’ Rosalind pointed out, ‘and not at midday, as previously arranged, leaving Dee sitting there at the station wondering what on earth had happened.’

  ‘It was lucky you had your phone turned on,’ Dee informed Miles, ‘or I’d have been very worried when you didn’t get off that train.’

  Miles was looking fairly worried himself, but he still didn’t comment.

  ‘There’s obviously just no getting through to him,’ Sally declared, blowing her nose.

  ‘Is anyone trying, that’s what I want to know?’ Rosalind demanded, fixing her eyes on Miles. ‘I’m doing my best, but he’s either not listening, or he changes the subject, or he comes out with something threatening and macho, like, “I don’t ever want to hear you say that again.” He’s behaving like an adolescent, going round in a bubble of infatuation and blinding himself to what she’s really like, and I’m sorry, but he needs to be told.’

  ‘I have to agree,’ Dee said solemnly. ‘I’ve known your father many years now, and he’s definitely not himself. And quite frankly, it beggars belief that he’d do something like this to your mother’s memory when he’s always been such a loyal and sensitive man.’

  ‘All Mum ever wanted was for him to be happy,’ Rosalind ran on, ‘she even kept telling him that he must get married again, but I know how afraid she was that it would be to her. I can’t bear to think of how upset she used to get about it. Dad saw it too, and I’m not saying he wasn’t sympathetic, or didn’t do his best to reassure her, because he did, but then what does he do as soon as Mum dies?’

  ‘I just hope all this strange behaviour isn’t going to end up having a detrimental effect on his career,’ Dee mumbled.

  Speaking at last, Miles said, ‘Actually, I think it’s already happening.’

  Rosalind’s eyes sharpened with alarm.

  Sweeping back the loose strands of hair that had tumbled over his forehead, he went on, ‘Dee’s right, there’s definitely been a change in him over the last few months. It’s becoming quite noticeable now … He doesn’t seem to be focusing on what you’re saying, or he’s lost interest in it, or … I don’t know, it’s hard to put into words. It’s like he’s just not there at times. And I’m not the only one who’s noticed, because I had a call from no less than the Foreign Secretary on Friday morning, to ask me if David was all right.’

  Rosalind’s eyes dilated with yet more alarm. ‘What made him ask that?’

  ‘Apparently they had dinner together on Thursday night, and Colin thought David seemed a bit, vague was how he put it, about how he wants to go forward during the next parliament. Obviously, I assured him David is more than ready to support him, and to retake his position as Minister, but I don’t mind telling you, getting a call like that took me aback a bit.’

  ‘You see,’ Rosalind cried, ‘she’s going to destroy all his chances of making a comeback, and before we know it he’ll be lucky to hold on to his seat, never mind joining the front benches. Just thank God I managed to get him to sign the business over to me before she had a chance to get her grasping hands on it, or he could end up with nothing at all.’

  ‘Listen, I know he’s well off,’ Sally chipped in, ‘but it can’t have escaped everyone’s notice that he’s a pretty attractive man, so it’s not as if having money and status are his only attributes. I know you won’t want to hear this, Ros, but I could easily fancy him myself.’

  ‘You’ve had too much to drink,’ Rosalind snapped at her.

  ‘Actually, I had another call on Friday,’ Miles continued gravely. ‘I can’t say who it was from, but apparently the Foreign Minister who’s likely to lose his position in David’s favour has been digging up some information about her.’

  The atmosphere sparked as this promise of gossip fell into the room l
ike an electric charge. All eyes were on him as he said, ‘I’m sorry, I can’t reveal anything at this stage, but I can tell you this, if it gets out it’s likely to upset the Party, which in turn could do a lot of damage to David’s chances of going forward.’

  Rosalind sat back in her chair, torn between triumph and worry. ‘Does Dad know about this?’ she asked.

  ‘Not yet. I have to choose my moment, and I’d appreciate it if you don’t mention anything when you speak to him. It’s very sensitive and has to be handled in the right way.’

  Though they were clearly itching to be told what it was, they all knew better than to press the issue, since Miles’s loyalty to David came above everything.

  ‘Just tell me this,’ Rosalind said, ‘does she have any idea Dad’s enemies are gunning for her?’

  ‘I can’t see how she would,’ Miles replied.

  ‘So what’s likely to happen next?’ Dee asked.

  ‘I don’t know, but I’m seeing my source on Tuesday to get an update from that end, and the following morning I’ve got a meeting scheduled with a couple of David’s closest supporters. They have to be told what’s going on so we can brainstorm the possible uses the information could be put to. That way we’ll be better placed to start working on damage control should it turn out to be necessary.’

  There were several moments of silence before it was broken by Lawrence, standing in the doorway. ‘Mum, it’s eight thirty in the evening, so I have to go to bed.’

  Seeing his dear little face so serious and purposeful, Rosalind’s expression immediately softened. ‘Of course, darling,’ she said, getting up to go to him. ‘Would you like to stay in your room here, tonight?’

  The struggle of having to deal with the unexpected was clear on his face. ‘It’s eight thirty,’ he repeated. ‘I have to go to bed.’

  ‘And you have a bed here, at Aunt Dee’s, which you know you can use whenever you like.’

  His eyes came angrily to hers.

  She smiled down at him, but was careful not to touch him.

  ‘How was your fishing with David today?’ Dee asked. ‘Did you catch anything?’

  ‘No,’ he replied flatly, ‘but David brought a dog with him, called Lucy. She was very efficient at fetching sticks.’

  Dee smiled. ‘How lovely,’ she said, glancing at Rosalind to see if she knew who owned the dog.

  ‘Her,’ Rosalind whispered. ‘OK, darling, off you go. I’ll come and check on you in about half an hour. You know where Aunt Dee keeps your spare pyjamas.’

  After he’d pounded up the stairs they sat quietly listening to his footsteps clomping above, as their thoughts returned to what had been said before the interruption. In the end Miles’s mobile broke the silence.

  ‘I have to take this,’ he said, and getting up from the table he walked out on to the patio in order to speak in private.

  ‘One of his many girlfriends?’ Sally ventured.

  Rosalind shrugged. ‘Possibly. Probably.’ Though she might share her father’s respect and affection for Miles, right now she couldn’t be less interested in who he was speaking to, unless it was connected to this new information that had come to light about Lisa Martin. ‘What do you think this secret could be?’ she said, looking at Dee.

  Dee shook her head. ‘I guess we won’t find out until Miles wants us to,’ she replied.

  ‘Well, whatever it is, let’s hope it manages to bring Dad to his senses before that damned wedding, because I’m certainly not having any success on that score and God knows I’m trying.’

  Lisa was laughing as she and David drove through the early morning sunshine dappling the northern swathe of his constituency. They were on a high after leaving the house, where Brazilian slate slabs were now covering the entrance hall, and a team of painters were already at work in the kitchen and bedrooms. The plumbers were there too, finishing off the heating system for the pool, while the gardeners were a good way through creating the water features that were to cascade down each side of the steps to the courtyard, where they’d tumble over the edges into specially constructed troughs that fed into ponds each side of the garden.

  ‘It really does look as though it’s going to be ready in time, doesn’t it?’ Lisa sighed joyfully. ‘Even if it isn’t, we’ll have to make them sort out something for the day.’

  ‘Of course,’ David agreed, ‘but you heard what Stanley said, and I’ve employed that man too many years to start doubting his predictions now.’

  Lisa’s eyebrows rose. ‘Then he’s unique as a builder,’ she commented, ‘because from everything I’ve heard and experienced they never finish on time. Or on budget.’

  ‘Well, he hasn’t let me down yet, and I’m confident he won’t over this. He knows how important it is. OK, there might be some finishing touches to do after we’ve moved in, but you wait and see, every room will be …’ He broke off and checked his rear-view mirror, even though they were on a straight road with no other traffic around.

  ‘Every room will be …’ Lisa prompted.

  He glanced at her, rapidly trying to pick up what he’d been saying. ‘Uh … yes, functional by the time August 4th comes round …’

  ‘What!’ she shrieked. ‘Please tell me you’re joking.’

  He seemed perplexed.

  ‘You’re definitely joking,’ she decided, ‘because I know that you know we’re getting married on the third. Well, legally it’s happening on the second, but the big do, as you well know, is on the third.’

  He started to grin. ‘I was thinking about the honeymoon,’ he told her. ‘We’re leaving on the fourth, yes?’

  ‘Indeed. Are we driving there?’

  ‘Of course. Now, am I dropping you back at Amy’s, or will you come with me?’

  With a guilty groan she said, ‘Darling, I give you my word, once we’re married I’ll get involved in constituency business, but for now, not only do I not fancy being faced with your sister-in-law dragging a chilly smile from the depths of her frilly white blouse …’

  ‘You’ve never met her.’

  ‘It’s how I imagine her. Is she like Catrina?’

  ‘Actually, hardly at all. She’s much more … countrified, I think you could call it. Or horsey, maybe, and … how do I put this delicately? Not particularly into men. She left her husband for another woman fifteen or more years ago, but the woman ended up running off with another man a couple of years later, and now dear old Dee fills her time with the WI and all sorts of good causes, and her son, Wills, of course, who I’m sure I’ve already told you about.’

  ‘He’s the nephew in Brussels working on his PhD?’

  ‘That’s right, and I still have to call him about the wedding. The last time I spoke to him he assured me he and his girlfriend would be coming, but I want to be sure that he doesn’t mind about me asking Lawrence to be my best man.’

  Lisa broke into a smile. ‘I think it’s lovely that you’ve chosen Lawrence,’ she told him. ‘I still can’t quite believe that Rosalind’s allowing it.’

  He grimaced. ‘She hasn’t mentioned it since I brought it up,’ he confessed, ‘but I put it to her while Jerry was there, because I knew she probably wouldn’t argue then. And now I’m going to remain hopeful that because it’s something special for her son, she’ll find it in her to come too.’ He checked the offside mirror and began merging into a fast-flowing stream of traffic. ‘So, if you’re not going to join me for the surgery this morning, what are you going to do?’ he asked.

  ‘Amy and I have a tasting to go to at midday,’ she reminded him.

  ‘Of course. Which I suppose means you won’t be meeting me for lunch?’

  Surprised, she said, ‘I thought you were going back to London when the surgery’s over.’

  ‘I was, but I’ve decided to stay on another day, because I’d like to spend a little time with Rosalind. I’m worried about her, and I think it would be a good idea to see her again before next weekend.’

  Lisa looked at him and smiled. Reac
hing over to brush the backs of her fingers over his cheek, she decided to let the subject of Rosalind drop.

  ‘Do you mind going back on your own this afternoon?’ he asked.

  ‘No, of course not,’ she assured him. In fact, having some time to herself this evening would allow her to catch up with a few friends on the phone, and, if possible, to try winkling out of her editor exactly why he wanted to see her tomorrow.

  It was past one o’clock by the time David and Miles left the Baptist church in Keynsham where they’d been using the front entrance lobby and one of the vestries for the morning’s surgery. Though the room had little ecclesiastical about it, more an air of modern indifference, David still couldn’t help feeling at times that he was in a confessional. It was amazing the things some people told him, from marital problems to medical intrigues, criminal plots, and spiritual epiphanies. One dear old man once asked him if it was possible for his wife to continue to vote, even though she was dead, because she was definitely still around, haunting him. Then there was the woman who’d turned up one morning with drawings and mathematical calculations to demonstrate why sleeping policemen strategically placed on the M4 would slow down the speed freaks and reduce accidents. Most, however, came to seek his support in matters in which they weren’t being well served, or to air their views and grievances, or in recent months to offer their condolences, which he had found very touching. No one had turned up yet to congratulate him on his forthcoming nuptials, though he had received a few letters and emails expressing some surprise, and in one case, disgust, at such unseemly haste in rushing back to the altar when his poor dead wife was still so fresh in everyone’s minds. Though she was in his too, he had no intention of using this truth as some sort of defence.

  This morning’s visitors had included an agitated upper-crust woman wanting to vent her frustration with a system that dished out endless benefits to single mothers, so was it any wonder the number of teenage pregnancies was soaring? Another bossy, finger-wagging female expressed outrage at the local council who’d planted the wrong trees on a new housing estate so the roots were now starting to turf out the drains, and was anyone doing anything about it? No, they jolly well were not, so as the local MP it was incumbent on David to sort the matter out, pronto, before they were up to their necks in each other’s sewage. The last visitor of the morning had turned out to be a plucky, likeable young chap who’d dropped in to let him know that he was intending to read Government at LSE, as David had, and to suggest that if there was any chance of some work experience he, David, could do a lot worse.