Forgotten

by Susan Lewis

  With the kind of chuckle he always used when feeling awkward and wanting to change the subject, he said, ‘Has he gone on his trip to the museum today?’

  ‘Yes, he has, and I’m sure he’ll be full of it later. You remember how he was the last time we took him to the zoo? He recited his list of animals so often over the next couple of weeks that we could all reel them off in the end.’

  Laughing, David said, ‘That was a lovely day out. Jerry was there too, as I recall.’

  She swallowed hard. ‘And Mum,’ she added in a whisper. Then, summoning a stronger voice to try and quash her yearning, ‘She got all squeamish in the Reptile House, which made Lawrence laugh so loudly that we were asked to leave because we were disturbing everyone else. Then we had to go back because she’d lost an earring.’

  ‘Oh yes, the earring,’ he laughed.

  She was smiling too. ‘You found it and clipped it to your ear and waited for one of us to notice.’

  ‘And you all pretended not to, you horrors, so I was left walking round the zoo with a bright orange bauble bouncing off my ear thinking I was very witty and having a joke on your mother, when you were all having a joke on me. If my little champion Lawrence hadn’t noticed, I might still be wearing it now.’

  With a spluttering laugh, she said, ‘Do you remember how he took to wearing the earring after? He got teased terribly about it at school.’ She was at the Mud Dock now, climbing the stairs to the eatery. The morning-coffee drinkers had already left and lunch wasn’t yet under way. Choosing a window table, beneath an array of hanging bicycles, she ordered a decaff latte and turned to stare out at the basin. ‘I was wondering,’ she said, turning her back so the milling staff couldn’t hear, ‘if you’ve been to Mum’s grave lately.’

  Though she knew already what the answer was going to be, it upset her even more than she’d expected when he said, ‘Well, I confess, it’s been a while since I was there, so I must go again.’

  Yes, he must. ‘Soon?’

  ‘Of course, soon.’

  She had to swallow again, and she was painfully tense inside as she said, ‘When you go, don’t take her, will you?’

  There was a moment before he replied, and this time she felt sure the date was finally registering. ‘Darling, I’m sorry you’re feeling sad today,’ he said gently. ‘I should have called …’

  But you didn’t! ‘She would have been fifty-two today,’ she said, her eyes flooding with tears.

  ‘Rosalind, what can I say? There’s so much going on here …’

  ‘Do you remember,’ she cut in, ‘how we always used to have double parties on our birthdays? Children in the day, adults at night, until I was old enough for us all to combine.’

  ‘Yes, of course I do. They were wonderful times. Very special memories.’

  So special you’re not even thinking about them today. ‘She used to love buying presents,’ she tried to laugh. ‘She even used to buy us one for her birthday so we wouldn’t feel left out.’

  ‘She was always very generous.’

  ‘I know. Do you remember the party she threw for your fiftieth? There was even more to celebrate that year because she’d gone into remission.’

  ‘Yes, she had, sweetheart, but unfortunately it didn’t last anywhere near as long as it should have.’

  ‘No,’ she said brokenly.

  ‘Darling, where are you? I think you should be with Dee, or Sally, if Jerry’s not around.’

  ‘I will be later. There’s some business I have to attend to this morning. I’m interviewing a new decorator. Roland Swift’s retiring at the end of the month.’

  ‘Then we must give him a proper send-off. How about a gold paintbrush, or a magic ladder?’

  Laughing, because she knew he wanted her to, she said, ‘Don’t worry, I’ve already got it sorted. He’s never been abroad, apparently, so I talked to Joan, his wife, and they’re going to spend a fortnight in Spain.’

  ‘A very good idea. You know, your mother would be extremely proud of how much care you take of the people who’ve been loyal to us over the years, and of the way you make sure the properties are well kept and secure. She was always a … always a … Sorry, darling, just a moment.’

  Guessing she had distracted him, Rosalind held on to the phone, the lump in her throat so large that she could hardly swallow. When he came back on the line she said, ‘Do you think this is fair, Dad, what you’re doing to Mum now?’

  The line went quiet again, and she could almost see his face at the other end, tormented with misery and guilt, not knowing what to say that would make this any easier for either of them. ‘Darling,’ he said in the end, ‘I know how you feel, and I’m sorry for it, truly I am, but …’

  ‘It’s all right, you don’t have to say any more,’ she cut in before he could start making excuses. ‘I have to go now anyway, the new chap’s just turned up,’ and with a hurried goodbye, she clicked off the phone and stuffed it deeply into her bag. No one had come through the door since she’d sat down, but she’d needed to finish the call then or she’d have ended up disgracing herself in public. As it was, she was finding it difficult to push back the tears.

  She should never have called him when she had. Why hadn’t she waited till she got home, or at least done it while she was in the car? It was too late now to berate herself for bad timing. It was done and she should have known better than to have contacted him at all, because there had never been much doubt that she’d end up feeling even worse than she had before. He’d never forgotten her mother’s birthday before, but she supposed he didn’t see much reason to remember it now. Unable to bear even the thought of that, she pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a sob. Sometimes she wondered if it wouldn’t be best for them all if she were simply to take Lawrence away somewhere and never come back again. Everyone’s problems would be over then – Jerry’s, hers, Lawrence’s … And her father and his mistress would be free to get on with their blessed and totally selfish lives without anyone bothering their consciences or standing in their way.

  It really wasn’t that Lisa wanted Tony to call. In fact, if he did, especially this close to the wedding, she’d be so furious she’d ring off before he even had a chance to get past hello. However, the fact that he hadn’t made any attempt at all to be in touch since the day they’d had lunch – she had to concede she’d been the one to ring him over the money-laundering business – was starting to occupy almost as many of her thoughts as the wedding itself.

  Actually, that was an exaggeration. Every moment of every day was taken up with the wedding now, but somehow, in some way he was managing to squeeze himself into the pauses, or roll around the questions, or move along with the decisions as though, God forbid, he was some kind of phantom guest who might, knowing him, morph into terrible reality at just the wrong moment.

  ‘He wouldn’t, would he?’ she said to Brendan, her now ex-editor, who was the only person she could confide in at this late stage. Amy would go ballistic if she thought Tony Sommerville was even the whisper of a thought in her mind, and her mother would probably start worrying herself into some sort of funny turn. As for her other friends, she’d have so much explaining to do about why he was on her mind at all right now that it simply wasn’t worth going there even if she had the time, which she didn’t.

  ‘Sweetie, he’s on a buying trip in Beijing,’ Brendan told her, ‘and as far as I know he’s there until the end of August, so don’t worry, you’re safe.’

  ‘I can’t let him ruin my wedding,’ Lisa insisted. ‘David’s a wonderful man, and he doesn’t deserve to have anything go wrong now when he’s been so kind and generous and …’

  ‘As I said, sweetie …’

  ‘… I’m so lucky to be back with him. I know now that he’s all I’ve ever wanted. Which isn’t to minimise what I had with Tony, because that was wonderful too, at times, but with David … It’s really special, you know the way things are when you go back such a long way?’

  ‘Yeah, right,’ Br
endan answered, sounding vaguely baffled.

  ‘So if Tony gets in touch with you to ask anything at all about me your answer is that you don’t know how I am, what date I’m getting married, where I’m going on my honeymoon, where I’m going to be living. You know zilch, right?’

  ‘Right. And you would be telling me this because?’

  ‘Because … For God’s sake, Brendan, you know Tony Sommerville and his stunts as well as I do, and any one of them would be totally inappropriate as well as unwelcome right now. I loved him, I admit it, but I’m over it, and I hope he is too. And if you happen to speak to him again before I do, please tell him I hope he’ll be very happy with Mrs Overall, because …’

  ‘Mrs who?’

  ‘Overall – as in cleaner of an antique shop? I wasn’t fooled, Brendan, and frankly, this conversation’s gone on long enough. I don’t want to waste any more time thinking, or worrying about him, because I’ve got more than enough to do about the …’

  ‘Lisa, where are you?’

  She looked around. ‘Old Bond Street, by the flower seller, why?’

  ‘Take yourself into the nearest cafe or wine bar, treat yourself to a nice hot cup of tea, or very large glass of the vino, and calm down, for God’s sake.’

  Stopping in her tracks, she said, ‘You’re right. I’m sounding hysterical, aren’t I?’

  ‘A bit. But I guess it’s to be expected, pre-wedding nerves and all that.’

  She looked around at the designer shops and tourists, and as the reality of her surroundings began sliding into focus she said, ‘I am carrying my niece’s bridesmaid’s dress, together with a jar of lime marmalade and some special brew tea for my soon-to-be-husband, plus some fancy undies I’ve just bought for our honeymoon, and yet I’m standing here talking to you about Tony Sommerville. I’ve lost the plot, haven’t I?’

  ‘Sounds like it, sweetie.’

  ‘Bren, do me a favour and forget I ever made this call?’

  ‘Sorry, who are you?’ he said. ‘Must be a wrong number. Toodle-pip,’ and the line went dead.

  Lisa barely had a chance to click off her end or even gather her thoughts before the phone rang again. It was Miles.

  ‘I hope this is a convenient time,’ he said. ‘If not I can always call back.’

  ‘It’s OK, now’s fine,’ she assured him, starting to walk on. ‘What can I do for you?’

  ‘Actually, if you were able to meet me,’ he said. ‘I’m on Piccadilly at the moment …’

  She glanced at the clock outside the Rolex shop. She really didn’t have time – however, since there was something she wanted to ask him, she said, ‘If you can be at the Wolseley in the next ten minutes …’

  ‘I’ll be there,’ he assured her, and quickly rang off.

  * * *

  It hadn’t been Miles’s intention to suggest they meet when he’d called Lisa. However, the words had materialised almost of their own accord, and now here he was, at the Wolseley, watching her weaving through the closely packed tables towards him looking as radiant and graceful as a movie star.

  By the time she reached him he was already on his feet, holding out a hand to greet her. ‘Thanks for coming,’ he said, feeling a humiliating heat flooding his cheeks. ‘I appreciate how busy you must be this week.’

  ‘And some,’ she laughed, ‘but at least I’m not feeling quite as wound up as I was ten minutes ago. I’ll have a fresh mint tea,’ she told the waiter.

  ‘The same,’ Miles added. As they sat down he almost blurted out Do you come here often, but mercifully managed to swallow the abysmal cliché before it smothered him with yet more embarrassment.

  ‘So,’ she said, ‘I hope this meeting is going to end better than the last one. I take it you didn’t pass my message on to Rosalind.’

  ‘No, I didn’t,’ he admitted.

  Her expression became wry. ‘I’m not sure whether that’s good or bad,’ she said, ‘but let’s presume it’s good. So now I’m going to guess that you’re here because David’s instructed you to apologise for telling me about the money-laundering thing. If that is the case, then please don’t, because you were right to tell me.’

  ‘Actually, he hasn’t mentioned it again,’ he informed her, ‘but I’m bracing myself for when he does.’

  Appearing to appreciate his irony, she laughed as she said, ‘I generally find his bark is worse than his bite, so I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you. So, as my guesses don’t seem to be yielding much success I’m handing over to you to tell me why we’re here.’

  Deciding there was no other way than to come straight to the point, he said, ‘I need to ask you about this “aberration” he had. Do you know any more than I do about what happened, exactly, and do you have any idea what caused it?’

  She sat back as the tea arrived, and waited until it was poured before saying, ‘To be honest, I’m not sure if you’re the person I should be saying this to, but I know you have David’s best interests at heart so I will. I imagine he told you that this “aberration” was caused by stress …’

  He nodded.

  ‘… and we both know that one way or another he’s been under a lot of it lately, but what I think he’s finding the hardest of all to deal with is how Rosalind is reacting to him getting married again.’

  He didn’t argue with that, because knowing what he did about Rosalind’s almost pathological resistance to her father’s betrayal of her mother, as she chose to see it, he couldn’t.

  ‘He’s not sleeping well,’ Lisa continued, ‘actually neither of us is at the moment, but I guess that’s only to be expected with so much going on, but David’s insomnia … Well, what – who – else matters to him more than his daughter?’ Her eyes became intent with feeling. ‘You know her,’ she said, ‘so tell me, do you think there’s anything I can do, anything at all, to help change her mind about me?’

  Don’t marry him were the words that burst from the bounds of his self-control. He would never utter them, of course, but even if he did he knew they’d ring falsely as advice on how to win over Rosalind. In their stark, humiliating truth, they would be a plea from him not to take herself even further from his reach. How fortunate it was that minds were as impenetrable as languages never learned, he was thinking.

  ‘It would mean so much to David if she’d come to the wedding,’ she continued. ‘He’d never tell me this, I know, but a part of him is dreading the day because of how awful he’s going to feel thinking of her at home on her own. Lawrence will be with us, and I think Jerry will too. I wish she wouldn’t do this to herself. If she’d just give me a chance …’

  ‘Lisa? Lisa Martin? Is that you?’ a voice suddenly boomed across the restaurant.

  As she looked up to see who it was, Miles could only marvel at how swiftly she was able to summon warmth to her smile, when he’d caught the flash of annoyance at being interrupted. ‘Hannah Berinski,’ she said, appearing as pleased to see the large American female in a pink straw hat and purple kaftan as the woman could wish for.

  ‘Yes, it is you!’ Hannah Berinski exclaimed, banging her plump bejewelled fists together. ‘I told you, Hugo. I’d know that gorgeous braid anywhere. How are you, pumpkin? Come here, let me get a look at you.’

  Glancing apologetically at Miles she said, ‘Excuse me,’ and dropping her napkin on her chair she threaded a path through to where the matriarch of US stereotype was holding out a pair of quivering flabby arms with which to smother her.

  As he waited for the reunion to reach its denouement Miles sipped his tea and felt ludicrously jealous of the time they were stealing from him. How foolish and sad he was.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ she said, sitting down again. ‘I’d have introduced you, but if I’d told them you work for David wild elephants wouldn’t have kept them away. So I said you were my niece’s new boyfriend who I’m vetting for my sister.’

  His smile was faint. Her niece’s boyfriend. A nonentity kept at arm’s length by the barrier of a generation, and not e
ven the whisper of suspicion that she might have a secret amour. Was he losing his mind?

  ‘Going back to what we were saying,’ she said, picking up her tea, ‘I’ve been thinking about writing a letter to Rosalind to try and persuade her to come to the wedding.’ The expression on her face indicated she did not feel confident of success. ‘She wouldn’t have to speak to me if she didn’t want to,’ she explained, as though he might act as arbiter between them. ‘It’s just that it would mean so much to David to have her there, and surely his happiness matters more to her than the way she feels about me. I mean, I understand that she’s still finding it hard to get over her mother, and as far as she’s concerned I’m stealing him away, but …’ She lowered her eyes and let her voice trail away.

  Glad that putting a hand on hers was forbidden, since it would seem mawkish, or worse, camp, he remained as he was as he said, ‘If you’re asking do I think it’s a good idea to write to her then I have to say yes, because if you don’t you’ll never know if it might have made a difference.’

  She could hardly have looked more pleased. ‘I’m so glad you said that,’ she told him, a childlike colour suffusing her cheeks, ‘because the very fact you think I should try gives me hope that I’ll be able to come up with something, even if it’s only a word or two, that will reach her.’

  Rosalind was in her study, surrounded by paperwork, when she heard Jerry driving up to the house. It was late on Saturday afternoon, a week before the wedding, which she was doing her utmost not to think about. However, that was going to become increasingly difficult now that he had begun the leave he’d taken to cover it.

  Remembering she still hadn’t cleared away the remains of a boozy lunch she’d had with the girls, she got quickly to her feet, staggered as she turned, then made her way out to the terrace where the table was strewn with screwed-up paper napkins in greens and yellows that matched the summery plates and brightly painted bowls of leftover salad and fruit. There were also three empty wine glasses and a third bottle of wine only just over half full.

  ‘Hi,’ she said thickly, as he came towards her, ‘you’re earlier than I expected.’