‘You fell in love with him in the same space of time, though.’
Liz wiped her eyes, caught Caroline smiling gently at her and began to laugh. ‘You’re right. Absolutely right. Oh, dear. I never thought of it like that. What it is to have a friend with common sense!’
‘Peter and I felt like that when we met. He had this appalling cold and sore throat, looked about ninety-five years old, and had come to the surgery for medical help. We fell in love immediately, but neither of us would admit to it because we both thought it couldn’t possibly have happened. But it had.’
Peter, who had dashed home for an afternoon cup of tea before sick visiting in Penny Fawcett appeared in the garden now. He pulled out a chair and joined them. ‘Hello, you two. I don’t know. Here am I working my fingers to the bone, and I come home to find my wife and a dear friend of hers, lounging in the sun with nothing to do but laugh.’
Caroline got to her feet. ‘We’re just ready for more tea, so I’ll make another pot and get you a cup so you can lounge in the sun like us.’ She stroked Peter’s head as she passed his chair, and he grabbed her hand and kissed it. Liz, at the sight of such happiness, wept again. As Caroline made more tea, Peter stayed silent until Liz had controlled her tears once more.
‘I’m so confused,’ she said. ‘I can laugh and cry at the same time. I’m so envious of you and Caroline. Can you tell me what to do?’
‘I might be able to put forward some points of view but I can’t tell you what to do. Only you can do that. I take it that it’s definitely all over between you and Neville?’
Liz nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
‘I feel very sad about that. Marriage is such a good framework to build one’s life around, but if all the trust and the delight is gone then there’s nothing left to build upon, and it might as well be cast aside. Caroline and I love each other more today than when we married. We’re so lucky.’
‘We all envy you.’
Peter looked her straight in the face and she saw tears brimming in his eyes. ‘If you feel you would have that with Titus then all I can say is go for it. It’s not what a man of the cloth should be saying, of course. You know the usual high-minded blurb - you made vows, made promises, work at it, get some counselling. But your boys are old enough to cope so it’s not as if you’re tearing small children apart - then I would advise differently. But for me, when one experiences deep love one wants everyone to have it. And in your case, unspeakable things have taken place between you and Neville, so, yes, go ahead and find love in as dignified a manner as you can.’
He smiled almost apologetically at her, and Liz, deeply moved by the sincerity of his words, leaned across the table and kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you for saying that.’ She gave him a second kiss on the other cheek just as Caroline arrived back with the fresh tea.
She raised an eyebrow at the two of them. ‘Have I come back too soon? I wouldn’t like to be guilty of interrupting something.’
The three of them laughed together. Then Caroline poured the tea and they chatted about this and that until Peter, looking at his watch, said, ‘I should be gone. See you, Liz.’
He kissed Caroline on her forehead and left.
When the sound of his footsteps had faded, Liz said, ‘What a lucky woman you are. I’m certain Titus will give me what you have - real love and security, caring and consideration - and Peter says I should go for it. What do you think?’
‘What can I say? He should follow the usual path of persuading you to make a fresh start with Neville, but being Peter . . . he says what he feels is for the best for you.’
‘I’m going, before I make a fool of myself again, and to tell Titus I’m his as soon as. Thanks for the tea and the advice, Caroline - it was just what I needed.’
Liz gave a brief wave and left.
After such a lovely, reassuring afternoon at the Rectory, having her own opinions of what she needed to do to put her life straight confirmed by Peter and Caroline, she felt much more confident.
But it all fell into shattered fragments when, to her horror, she found a hand-delivered letter from Neville on the doormat as she stepped inside the flat. She felt overwhelmingly nauseous. What shocked her most was that he obviously knew where she was. How else could the letter have got there? Liz thrust it down on the hall table and refused to look at it. Ignoring it, she thought, in an unbalanced way, might make it go away.
Her hands shook as she took her jacket off, and as she pottered about the flat, tidying things she should have tidied before she left that morning. The electricity bill had come for the owner, and some useless junk mail, which she threw in the bin. Still that damned letter sat on the hall table. The temptation to tear it into little pieces and throw it away overcame her, and her trembling hands began to do just that. But something stopped her. Twenty-five years of allegiance couldn’t be dismissed in a moment. She had to know what sick thing he’d written.
My dear Liz,
Although you didn’t know it, I watched you yesterday afternoon as you were packing your clothes at Glebe House. I saw once again the beautiful girl I married. Such class, such style. I’d forgotten.
I have always imagined I presented that beloved house of ours to you as a tribute from a husband to his wife. In fact, I know now that it was a tribute to myself and my success. That journey to success destroyed all the natural feelings I should have had. All that good side of me was drowned by my frantic, overleaping search for power. Watching you yesterday afternoon made me realize Titus hadn’t stolen you from me. I, with my own efforts, had already lost you.
I intend selling the house, with your agreement, and sharing the proceeds with you. A divorce, I think, will be the best thing. If that’s what you want I shall agree to it, then that Titus Bellamy can claim you as his own. I want the whole of the divorce to go smoothly without any bitter acrimony, and whatever is decided I shall agree to without question.
You know where the keys are for the safe. Rescue your jewellery; it is yours for ever. I don’t know how you got into the house, but I enclose a new key to the front door of Glebe House. If ever, in the future, you are in desperate need, tell me and I will help in whatever way I can.
Sincere good wishes to you, Liz, now and in the future.
Neville
Liz thought she’d done all her crying already today but as she folded Neville’s letter, great tears rolled down her face. If only, she thought, he’d spoken of all this before, perhaps they might have managed to stay together. But she’d grown to hate that house. He was right; it was a tribute to him, an opportunity to flaunt his wealth and success. She didn’t want that kind of tribute anyway.
She’d go right now and get her jewellery this minute. No time to waste. While she still dared. While she still felt angry and determined and full of confidence. Tomorrow she’d sell it all - somewhere, somehow - and use the proceeds to live on until the divorce went through and she and Titus could marry. There was that dear Victorian necklace with the four little owls sitting on a twig, and the silver Art Deco one with the pink enamelled flowers that Neville’s mother gave her before she died. Just how vindicitive she would have been in the present circumstances Liz couldn’t imagine. She’d have called her daughter-in-law all the names under the sun, because, of course, in her eyes none of this would have been Neville’s fault.
Liz snatched up her bag, locked the flat door and headed straight for Glebe House. Thank God she’d never have to see it again after today. Why had she not thought of taking her jewellery while she was packing her clothes? Just showed how confused she’d become with all this trauma.
This time Liz parked her car in the drive and let herself in with the new key Neville had sent. The safe was in Neville’s study. The keys . . . Surely she hadn’t forgotten where they were hidden? Neville changed their hiding place on a regular basis. She paused for a moment to clear her head. Ah! That was it. Yes, of course. It was the small bookcase behind his desk.
The door of the safe
sprang open and Liz opened the drawer kept specially for her jewellery. In the first instance she thought she’d opened the wrong drawer, but no, the other one was full of legal papers, deeds and such. She had got the right one. It was . . . empty. Empty? Her head exploded with horror. What kind of a cruel joke was this? All the kindly stuff in the rest of the letter, all the acknowledgement of the break-up being his fault and then . . . this. How low could he sink? Was he sitting laughing to himself in the boys’ flat? She would have rung him there if she’d been confident that she could be coherent. He was a slimy toad. She was well rid of him.
Liz rang Titus, and the whole sad tale was sobbed out over the phone. He was horrified. Then he said, ‘Listen here, no, no, listen to me for a moment. OK. He appears to have done a very hurtful thing, but that letter sounds very sincere to me, and for Neville to be genuinely sincere it shows he’s trying hard to improve himself. No, I don’t think giving you a key is a spiteful trick. Hush, let me finish. But I don’t want you having it out with him; that can cause nothing but trouble. Drive to Culworth police station and tell them you’ve had a burglary. I’ll drive there from here, and we’ll meet so I can back you up.’
There was no reply so Titus waited. He heard a few more sobs and then Liz’s voice saying, ‘If I do that it will work either way, won’t it? We’ve either had a burglary or he’s taken possessions which are rightly mine?’
‘Exactly. Drive carefully. Do you have photos?’
‘Yes.’
‘Insurance policies?’
‘Yes.’
‘Bring them with you. Take care. See you there.’
They both stood on the pavement outside the police station feeling as though they’d been stripped bare. The stupid smirk on the constable’s face when they declared what their problem was expressed what everyone else would think: that one of the three of them was guilty of the theft, for insurance reasons more likely the two of them, and they were declaring it to the police to cover their tracks. She could have slapped his face for him. Didn’t he recognize they weren’t that kind of people?
‘A drink, Liz, as of now,’ Titus said. ‘Don’t talk about it, just let it all slip away. I will not allow that oaf to upset us.’ He steered her into the nearest pub, sat her down and asked what she would like to drink.
‘A vodka and tonic, please.’
‘Won’t be a moment.’
Liz watched him waiting his turn at the bar, and was thankful for his calm approach. She’d never actually seen him in a temper and wondered what that would be like; he was always so calm and strong whenever she was with him. She couldn’t imagine him being angry.
Titus placed their drinks on the table and sat down. ‘Your good health, my darling.’
‘And yours.’
She waited until her drink had begun to calm her nerves. ‘When I read his letter I honestly thought that he’d regretted everything and wished he’d behaved differently, but this . . .’ Liz shook her head in disbelief.
‘We don’t know the whole story, do we? It could be there’s been a burglary. Remember that kitchen window we found so useful when you wanted your clothes? A burglar could have got in that way. We don’t know, so let’s not be too hasty.’
‘There was no sign of burglars.’
Titus smiled. ‘They can be very clever; they could have been in and out in minutes, leaving not a single trace. It’s inexperienced teenagers who enjoy leaving a mess. Don’t worry, darling, we’ll get it sorted. Are you happy staying where you are?’
‘I was until he found out where I was, but I’m not going to let him worry me.’
‘All you have to do, Liz, is to make sure who is at the door before you open it.’
Liz nodded.
‘If you know it’s time for the postman, say, you’ve still got to check before you open the door. Remember that. I’d much rather you were with me.’
Liz thought about the conversation she’d had with Caroline and Peter and how much she felt the need for love like theirs, but she shook her head. ‘Absolutely not. I’ve got to get my head sorted out before I take such a permanent step. I’m in such a muddle, you see, about everything. My emotions are seesawing up and down like crazy. I don’t know what I think half the time. Anyway, the boys are coming round tonight for a meal, so I shan’t be alone.’
The next day Liz went back to Glebe House after nursery to wait for the police officers, who were coming to see the safe. It was only then that she noticed the antique carriage clock, a wedding present from Neville’s grandfather, was missing from the sitting-room mantelpiece. She began looking around and discovered the silver grape scissors, a wedding present from Neville’s great-aunt had also gone from the big silver dish on display on the sideboard. A further search revealed that the silver cigarette box, which had belonged to Neville’s father, had also gone. So they had had burglars. Unless . . . Neville had taken those as well, as they were from his side of the family . . .
By the time the policemen had gone Liz was in turmoil. They both appeared to intimate that either she, her boyfriend or her husband had stolen the missing articles. All of them had reasons for doing so. All had had the opportunity. And there were no signs of forced entry to indicate burglars. After all, they said, on her own admission her boyfriend had been in the house alone while she was upstairs packing her clothes. The prospect of Titus being a thief was staggering.
It had to be Neville. Who else? Suddenly she felt so angry and so convinced he was guilty of the theft that she decided to confront him, eyeball to eyeball, face to face, and have it out. He’d still be slinking about in that gorgeous flat belonging to their sons, no doubt.
Neville answered the door immediately, looking as though he was ready to go out.
‘Oh! Liz. What is it?’ He looked her up and down in a critical fashion. ‘Money?’
‘No.’ She studied his looks. He appeared pale and ill but she didn’t care. ‘I thought you wanted an amicable divorce.’
Neville led the way into the sitting room and offered her a chair. ‘I meant what I said.’
‘It can hardly be called amicable when you’ve taken my jewellery. I was relying on that for income.’
‘What do you mean?’ Neville looked puzzled.
‘All my jewellery in the safe has gone. And the grape scissors, the carriage clock, and that cigarette box of your father’s.’
‘Are you certain?’ Neville looked agitated.
‘Of course I am,’ Liz snapped. She stood up to make herself look as though she intended toughing it out, which she did.
‘Well, I haven’t taken them. I might be the devil incarnate according to everyone in Turnham Malpas but that is something I haven’t done. Honestly, Liz, I have not touched your jewellery or any of the other things, I really haven’t.’
‘Why can’t I believe you? You’ve half-lied about things for years.
‘As God is my judge, I am telling the truth.’
Liz bent over to put her hands on the arms of Neville’s chair and looked closely into his face. She knew instantly that he wasn’t lying. ‘So we have been burgled.’
‘Have you told the police?’
‘Of course, but they say it could be you or Titus who’s taken them, or me.’
Neville’s face screwed up in that well-known accusing manner. ‘It’ll be him. While you were upstairs packing he came in from the garden and took the lot. The thieving, scheming, layabout. I—’
Liz gasped. ‘So you did see me packing, just as you said in your letter.’ She shuddered at the thought. ‘Did you watch me from the landing?’
‘Well, yes, I did. I’d no idea anyone was in the house but then I heard you walking about upstairs and saw Titus sitting in the garden. You were a long while, he’d plenty of time.’
‘But you were there, you would have seen him come into the house.’
‘I left before you did. I’d only come to collect some clothes, like you. I watched you and thought what an idiot I’d been letting you slip thr
ough my fingers so easily. If I’d loved you properly you wouldn’t have wanted him. But I didn’t. So you found Titus. I’m so sorry, Liz.’ Neville reached out his hand and touched her arm so sympathetically that she felt a measure of distress for his predicament. Poor Neville.
Liz drew in a deep breath. ‘So it really is a proper burglary.’
‘Leave it with me, Liz. I’ll go higher up the chain and get something serious done about it. Have you time for a drink?’
At that moment Hugh and Guy came in. Once they’d greeted their mother with delighted surprise, Neville suggested they had a meal together. He nearly added ‘for old times’ sake’ but decided not to. ‘Here in the flat, or out in a restaurant. Mmm? What do you say?’
The Village Green Affair Page 21