by Lucy Coleman
‘I am sorry to be foisted upon you, but you know what he’s like when he gets an idea in his head.’
‘Oh, you don’t have to tell me about that. He can be stubborn all right,’ Daphne admits. ‘Please help yourself as I know you don’t get a long break. Tea, or coffee?’
‘Coffee would be great, thank you. And I skipped breakfast this morning, so this is very welcome.’
She joins me and suddenly the atmosphere between us is more congenial. After the traumatic events of the last few days, I’m wondering why I haven’t been more understanding. Gray is right and it’s time for me to do something about it.
‘You know, Daphne, I would love for you to come to the wedding. Not just for Tollie’s sake, but for mine and Gray’s, too.’
She seems pleased as I fill my plate and begin eating.
‘Really? You’re not just saying that? I completely understand how… difficult this is for you, Immi. I warned Tollie things were moving along a little too quickly and his operation only succeeded in bringing things forward, I’m afraid. It wasn’t planned.’
I stop eating to look at her intently. ‘Can I ask how long you and Tollie have been seeing each other?’
Her eyes meet mine as she answers me. ‘A little over a year. We first met when Tollie was helping Bernie and Yvonne move back into Turnpike Cottage. Shortly after that we started meeting up for coffee and our relationship grew from there.’
‘I had no idea,’ I admit.
‘Tollie wanted to be discreet because one never knows how a friendship is going to develop, does one? There’s no point in upsetting people if that’s all it’s meant to be.’
‘You mean me, I presume.’
‘Oh dear, I really don’t want to make things any worse than they are now, Immi.’
‘It’s fine. I think I’m beginning to understand.’
‘I do hope so, because as time went on Tollie and I realised that to find someone to share your life with at our age is a true blessing. Tollie was nervous about the fact that this was your former home and concerned about how you would feel if I moved in with him. It happened a lot quicker than we’d envisaged, of course, because of his operation, and that’s the problem. Neither of you were ready, but he wasn’t going to add to your problems.’
That makes me sad. ‘But looking after him wouldn’t have been a problem at all,’ I state emphatically. ‘We’ve always been close and Tollie has been there for me through some very troubled times. I wouldn’t have begrudged anything I could do to help him.’
Daphne looks at me, a pinched expression on her face. ‘And I told him that. But he said you were so overloaded already and he knew the signs.’
I let her words sink in.
‘He risked us falling out in order not to be a burden to me?’
‘That’s about the size of it. But I was happy to be there for him, and please understand that he was happy for me to be here too. He still is, although personally I think the price of risking losing you is too high. You are the most important thing in his life, and you always will be. That’s why I won’t come to the wedding, because I’m not family, Immi, and we’re not even friends. It’s your day and I don’t want to spoil it in any way.’
I sit back in my chair, waves of guilt washing over me.
‘I’m sorry. I was stressed, it was true, and everything seemed like the final straw. It hurt, because I felt he was pushing me away. And I was wrong to take that out on you, because that’s what I ended up doing. You make him happy and now he’s fully recovered it’s taken ten years off him. The old Tollie is back and I have you to thank for that, Daphne.’
‘That’s very generous of you to say that, Immi, and it means more to me than you can possibly know.’
‘And the wedding?’
‘Well, if you really mean it, then I’d be delighted to accompany Tollie and be a part of your celebrations. Let’s not tell Tollie exactly what we’ve spoken of today. It’s enough to tell him that we’ve made friends. He’s not good with the emotional stuff, is he?’
That makes me laugh. ‘No, he isn’t, but he has a heart of gold.’
‘And I’ll take great care of him, Immi, of that you can be very sure.’
‘That’s incredible, Immi.’ Fisher’s tone is one of relief and shock. As I look around the assembled group, they’re all mirroring his reaction.
‘I know. Gray called in a favour and he explained that the money had been stolen. If we manage to get any of it back, or we end up raising more than we need for that final invoice, they are happy for it to go into the general charity fund. I thought I’d type up an official thank-you letter to let them know which local charities we support. We could end up with a little money left over to distribute as we normally do, which, as we all know, will be greatly appreciated as they weren’t expecting anything at all this year.’
‘It’s a pity Gray’s not here, but tell him well done, and I’ll buy him a pint on Friday,’ Martin joins in.
‘Me too,’ adds Fisher. ‘He was right when he said there’s something about Christmas that encourages people to dig deep, because Val has some news, too.’
We all turn to look at Mum. ‘I spoke to Seth, the estate manager at Aysbury Manor yesterday, to pass on my telephone number. I explained that, as a courtesy, the family might be interested to know more about the proposed new playground. It worked and earlier this evening I had a phone call from Stephen Harrington-Forbes himself. He will be instructing his son, Anthony, to set up an annual donation to Aysbury’s fundraising initiatives for the sum of five thousand pounds. Given that we are celebrating the tenth anniversary of the Santa Ahoy cruises, Stephen will be sending a personal cheque for one thousand pounds to foot the bill for the party. He wanted to express his thanks and acknowledge the sterling work that has been carried out by the community.’
I’m speechless, but Martin is quick to reply. ‘It’s about time they put their hands in their pockets. As the biggest landowners around here, even though that son of theirs is seldom in residence these days, as the heir he’s a key employer hereabouts. No doubt they make big profits off the back of that and it doesn’t hurt for them to be reminded of it. Kudos to you, Val, because it’s quite something to get the old man on the line. Calling from his villa in Spain, was he?’
Mum nods her head, looking a little flushed, and I interrupt. ‘It’s not what you know, it’s who you know, eh? The estate manager has always been supportive when it comes to letting us use the old farmyard opposite as parking every Christmas. I’m not even sure the family know about that. Well, what a turnaround!’
‘I think we should crack open a bottle, Fisher,’ Mum responds, giving me a jubilant smile.
Everyone is talking at once, the relief tangible, and I can’t wait to tell Gray. But first, Mum looks at me, inclining her head, and I follow her into the sitting room.
‘Mum, it’s not what I think it is, is it?’
She looks at me, shrugging her shoulders.
‘I gave Seth my number and told him that while doing some research of the area, I stumbled upon some photographs of Stephen Harrington-Forbes’s grandfather, Joseph, and his brother Henry. Which is true. You gave them to me yourself, do you remember? They were amongst that pile of albums Martin picked up at the table-top sale for you last year, when he noticed a photo of Lock Keeper’s Cottage amongst them.’
My heart is racing. When I lent them to her, I had no idea she was my mother, and I thought her interest was purely historical.
‘But getting money out of him… isn’t that blackmail?’ I whisper.
‘No, Immi. All I said was that my grandmother was the nurse who took up residence in Lock Keeper’s Cottage back in 1936, to look after Henry’s ailing wife. There was no need to say any more than that. My mother always suspected that the family knew my grandmother left her position because she was having a baby and Henry was the father. As it turned out, Henry left no official heirs, which suited them perfectly, as everything went to Stephen in th
e end. Stephen is in his seventies now and there’s no point in raking up the past after all these years. I then told him all about the Santa Ahoy cruises and the new children’s playground and asked if he would like to make a donation. The choice was his entirely.’
I can’t believe Mum put herself in that position. When she finally sat me down and told me who she was, I also learnt about the family connection to the Forbeses. Mum had no interest in it, other than she longed to see a photo of her biological grandfather. Ironically, it was looking through that pile of old photos and albums with her as we talked about the history of Aysbury over a year ago that was the turning point for us both. We’d been acquaintances, rather than friends, up to that point. But our interest in history, mine in particular about Lock Keeper’s Cottage, turned out to be a bonding experience.
‘It was a big risk, Mum. And one you needn’t have taken as it turns out,’ I declare, shaking my head sorrowfully.
‘As it turns out, you’re right, Immi. But I believe in karma. It doesn’t right the wrong that was done, but Henry’s life was a sad one. He lost his wife and the woman with whom he sought comfort – my grandmother and your great-grandmother. Even if their backgrounds hadn’t been worlds apart, I don’t believe they would have made a life together. It was a different time, where everyone knew their place and Henry was already a broken man at the point. You forgave me, my lovely Immi, and my mother and grandmother forgave Henry for his wrongdoing. It’s as simple as that. But it doesn’t do that family any harm to acknowledge the charity work being done on their doorstep to support the local community.’
At the end of the evening Fisher walks me back to Lock Keeper’s Cottage and before we part, he gives me the biggest of hugs.
‘Sleep well, darling girl. Let it all go now and start getting that head of yours around the fact that in six days’ time you’ll be tying the knot with Gray.’
As I get ready for bed, a sense of calm envelops me. When I woke up this morning I didn’t leap out of bed as usual, but instead I pulled the duvet up over my head and groaned at the thought of what lay ahead. Now, here I am, feeling that somehow the impossible has happened. Someone up there is looking after me and I wonder if it’s Grandma Nell. She loved it when a wrong was righted, and maybe this miracle is her doing…
29
Home Is Where Your Heart Is
‘Sunday evenings don’t get any better than this, Gray. Everything is right in our little world and it’s about to get even better.’
Gray is lying on the rug in front of the fire, propped up with a mound of pillows and watching me toasting marshmallows. ‘I think you’re right,’ he replies contentedly.’
I hand him a stick with a melting lump of goo precariously perched on the end, looking as if it might be on the move. ‘Careful, it’s hot.’
‘Is that a burnt bit?’ He screws up his face and I shake my head at him.
‘Have this one, then.’
We swap and I lie down next to him, waving my sweet treat around to cool it down.
‘Grandma preferred roasting chestnuts and Tollie enjoyed white sliced bread. Toast doesn’t taste any better than when it has that hint of smokiness to it.’
It’s the twentieth of December and Gray doesn’t go back to work until the second week of January. The last of the Santa Ahoy cruises are done, our wedding is the day after tomorrow, and on Boxing Day everyone will be attending the tenth anniversary party at the village hall.
‘Remember last year? You were frazzled and panicking about a little engagement party.’ He smiles to himself, then chuckles.
‘Ah, the good old days,’ I reply as Gray starts to hum the tune to ‘Let It Snow’.
When my phone begins to ring, he places a hand on my arm. ‘Don’t answer it. Whatever it is can wait.’ Of course, I ignore him and jump straight up to grab it off the new coffee table.
‘Hey, Mum. No, you’re not disturbing us,’ I reply as Gray stares at me, rolling his eyes.
‘We’re on our way to a police station in Norfolk to collect Ziggy. We have no idea what time we’ll be back, but we wanted you to know the good news. Patrick has handed himself in!’
‘Really? Oh, Mum, that’s brilliant news! Ziggy must be really missing you and I’m so glad Patrick finally did the right thing.’
Gray is already on his feet and walking towards me. Well, dancing towards me as he hums is a more accurate description.
‘Me too, Immi. I said that any person who is capable of loving and caring for an animal can’t be all bad. The police officer assured me she was fine and being extremely vocal, so that tells me she’s okay, bless her.’
‘She’s not in a cell, is she?’ I ask, horrified to think of Ziggy locked up, and Gray stops in his tracks.
‘Oh, no, they’ve all been fussing over her. One of the policemen even went out and bought her a litter tray. Now, how thoughtful is that? I bet she was really stressing, needing to pop outside, and she wouldn’t have her bearings. We might never have seen her again if they hadn’t been so thoughtful.’
‘Well, thanks for letting me know and drive safely. See you tomorrow!’
Gray comes closer. ‘They found Ziggy?’
‘Yes. Patrick walked into a police station in Norfolk to hand himself in and Ziggy is with him. Mum and Fisher are heading there now to collect her.’
Money can be, and has been, replaced. Ziggy, however, is unique and life hasn’t been quite the same without her in it.
Normally, at this hour on a Sunday evening my spirits begin to dip at the thought of waving Gray off in the morning, so it feels wonderfully decadent as we laze back on the sofa to watch a film. Gray loves musicals, obviously, and tonight I figured the choice was his. He picked North by Northwest, starring Cary Grant and directed by Alfred Hitchcock. It dates back to 1959 but Gray gives me a running commentary about how well the music score works to heighten the tension. It’s a welcome distraction after all the angst over Patrick and Ziggy, until I glance up and see Tollie at the patio doors and I hurry over to slide them open.
‘Come in, it’s freezing out there.’
‘Yep. Sure is. At least we won’t be gettin’ any snow by the looks of it. Can I have a quick word?’
‘Come on through to the hallway. This is Gray’s favourite bit,’ I half whisper and he nods in Gray’s direction.
‘What’s up?’ I ask, frowning, as Tollie doesn’t look happy.
‘What’s this I hear about Patrick?’
Oh, darn it. My face drops and I don’t know quite what to say.
‘I thought it was odd that he hasn’t been around, and I just had a pint with Cameron at The Bullrush and he says Patrick is no longer rentin’ Byre Cottage. Is this somethin’ to worry about?’
‘Let’s pop up to Gray’s studio,’ I reply diplomatically.
Tollie follows me upstairs and when we walk through the door he whistles. ‘Goodness, this is quite a set-up Gray has here.’
‘Yes. He’s hoping to work from home a lot more in the future. There’s still some kit on his wish list, but every project gets him closer to his target. Anyway, take a seat.’
‘Right. What’s goin’ on?’
I start at the beginning and don’t stop until Tollie is aware of everything, including the fact that Patrick has now handed himself in. Naturally, he’s in a state of shock. No one knows for sure what will happen next, or whether any of the money will ever be recovered.
‘Why didn’t you tell me what was goin’ on?’ His tone is accusatory, and I feared this would be his response.
‘There were enough of us involved to sort it out and, to be honest, Granddad,’ I use the term affectionately, so that he’ll understand that I meant well, ‘we didn’t want it to bring everyone down when we’d all worked so hard.’
Tollie sits quietly, shaking his head. ‘He must ’ave been desperate, Immi.’ The compassion in Tollie’s voice surprises me. I thought he’d be angry. ‘Well, thanks for tellin’ me the truth, even though you should have t
old me at the beginnin’. I understand why you didn’t want word to get out, but nothin’ fazes me at my time of life, Immi. And I can’t believe how fast you acted to turn it around.’
‘It wasn’t down to me. Gray and Mum managed between them to get donations to cover the loss and more. It’s going to be the best year ever, Tollie.’
Tollie’s chin has sunk down onto his chest. ‘Your grandma would have loved to see you and Gray here, in the cottage.’ His voice breaks a little as he stands, pushing back his shoulders and swallowing hard.
‘I know. And I think of her all the time.’
‘Thanks for mendin’ fences with Daphne. She’s not in my life to replace Nell, but we’re good company for each other. That’s a comfort and it means a lot to me that you talked her into going to the weddin’, m’dear. Anyway, I’m glad it all turned out well in the end. I hope Patrick has learnt his lesson. The sins we commit weigh heavy on our souls, but it’s never too late to seek redemption. At least returnin’ Ziggy to your mum is a comfort.’
As I follow Tollie downstairs, it strikes me that I’ve never heard him talk like that before. I hope he doesn’t regard being with Daphne as a sin, as that wouldn’t be right, or fair. If they bring each other a little happiness, they’re hurting no one. He once told me that he was just waiting to be called to ‘upstairs’, as he termed it, and that made me panic. It would be wonderful to think that he might not be so eager to let go of his grasp on life now. He’s fit and healthy again, and he’s more active than a lot of people much younger than him.
I see him out, and when I turn around Gray is no longer watching his film.
‘Tollie figured out that something was up, then? I can’t say I’m surprised.’
‘Yes. I told him everything and he took it well enough.’
‘Good. Now come and sit next to me. There’s something I need to tell you too.’ Gray pats the cushion next to him and I can see he’s uneasy. ‘I have an admission to make and at first I thought it was a brilliant idea, then as the days have gone by I’ve begun to wonder whether I should have consulted you about it first.’