by Kitty Neale
‘I did, but we brought it forward.’
‘You’re not…well…you know, pregnant?’
‘No, of course not!’
‘Oops, sorry. I just wondered if that’s why you brought the date forward.’
‘It’s nothing like that. We went to Scotland on holiday, and just thought, why wait?’
‘I suppose you’re moving out then?’ Sue said, eyeing the cases.
‘Yes, but the landlord isn’t around. I wrote a note and put it through his letterbox, along with the keys. It should be all right. It’s the end of the month and the rent was paid up to today. I know I haven’t given any notice but my deposit should cover that.’
‘I’m going to miss having you around, but congratulations, Jenny.’
‘Thanks, but as Marcos isn’t back yet, do you mind if I hang around for a while?’
‘Not at all. I’ll make us something to drink.’
Jenny settled on the sofa. She was leaving Chelsea, and that thought prompted a swift succession of memories of her arrival here with Tina. It had been fine at first, but somewhere along the line things had gone wrong between them. No, it wasn’t something, it was someone – Marcos. Tina hadn’t liked him from the start, but surely that couldn’t justify what she had done? She had used their friendship, the knowledge that her father had a little money, to virtually blackmail him. Had Tina felt abandoned, was that it? Had Tina felt that Marcos had become more important to her than their friendship?
‘It’s only orange squash I’m afraid,’ Sue said, holding out a tumbler.
‘Thanks. I was just thinking about Tina. If I hadn’t met Marcos, things might have been different.’
‘But you did, and had the situation been reversed, if Tina had met someone, would you have acted in the same way?’
‘No, I’d have been happy for Tina…But I feel now that I abandoned her.’
‘You met Marcos, fell in love, and you have no reason to reproach yourself for that. You and Tina were different, not just in looks, but your personalities too, with little in common.’
‘But to start with, we were like sisters.’
‘I think that’s because you needed each other at first. Though some friendships last, even grow, there are others that don’t and we go our separate ways.’
Jenny found that despite everything she missed Tina – missed that brief feeling of kinship they’d shared. However, she said only, ‘I suppose you’re right.’
A car pulled up outside and, seeing it was Marcos, Jenny picked up her suitcases, said goodbye to Sue, while all the time wondering if she’d ever see Tina again.
On the drive home Jenny’s mind turned to that evening and how her father was going to react to the news. She was looking forward to seeing him, but hoped he wouldn’t be too upset. When her thoughts turned to Delia, however, Jenny’s lips tightened. She wouldn’t allow Delia to get under her skin this time. Things would be different, she would be in her own home, and Jenny was determined to assert herself.
Just a short while ago, as though their thoughts were in accord, Tina had been thinking about Jenny as she walked along the seafront. Others would expect her to feel guilty about what she’d done, Tina knew that, but she didn’t feel a shred of guilt. Unlike her, Jenny hadn’t really needed to leave home. She might not have got on with her mother, but it had been obvious that Edward Lavender was a normal caring father; so much so that he had opened his wallet wide to find out where his daughter was. In fact, Tina decided, Jenny should thank her for bringing about their reunion.
The sky was overcast, the call of the gulls a lament that emphasised how Tina was feeling. She had arrived well into the season and had loved Brighton at first, finding that staying in a hotel not far from the beach was like the holiday she’d never had. Tina reached her destination now and crossed the road to walk up to an ice cream stand. The woman in the booth smiled when she saw her, asking, ‘Well, have you thought it over?’
‘Yeah, but the summer season is over. If I take it on now I’d have nothing to show for my money until next year.’
‘You’d be mad to turn it down. It’s fully licensed and you won’t get an offer like this again.’
The wind cut round the corner and Tina shivered. When she’d first seen the stand it had been busy, trade brisk, and she’d rather fancied the idea of selling ice creams. There had been people parading the front, all mostly jolly and some wearing silly hats, but now there were few left to be seen.
‘No, sorry, it ain’t for me.’
‘Please yourself,’ the woman said huffily.
Tina walked away, shoulders slumped. The seaside was nice in the summer, the holiday-makers friendly. There had been so many families too, happy ones, fathers playing with their kids, mothers smiling; normal family life, something she had never known. She’d felt lonely and apart from it all, and she hated what her father had done to her, what he’d turned her into. She wasn’t fit for anyone now, not fit to be a mother.
Pebbles crunched underfoot and, startled, Tina realised she had been so deep in thought that she’d unintentionally strolled onto the beach. At last, staring at the waves, she came to a decision. She couldn’t live like this any more, couldn’t live with herself any more and wanted to reach out for help. Yet who could she turn to? There had only been Jenny, but as Tina knew she had destroyed their friendship, she couldn’t go to her. Sue? No, Sue wouldn’t understand. What she needed, Tina decided, was to talk to someone who wouldn’t be shocked, who had heard something similar, maybe even worse.
Tina sighed and finally admitted where her thoughts were taking her. Paul Ryman, the only man she had ever felt safe with, the man she hadn’t been able to forget.
Dare she go back? Now that Jenny had been reunited with her family, she had probably gone home, but that still left Marcos. Jenny was sure to have told him about the scam, and Tina didn’t know what caused it, some sort of sixth sense perhaps, but the thought of bumping into him made her shiver with fear…Wait, as long as she kept away from the King’s Road she’d be safe.
Now, with a new determination, Tina hurried back to the hotel. She was ready to pack.
Chapter Thirty-Four
When Marcos had picked Jenny back up from Chelsea, he had been in a very good mood and was feeling magnanimous. He’d pulled into a Berni Inn close to home and, though it wasn’t exactly fine cuisine, they’d been served a decent enough Sunday roast. Jenny had been pleased, explaining that she’d been nervous about cooking a roast, and Marcos was happy to bask in her gratitude. She’d learn to cook soon enough, and in the meantime Marcos was feeling well satisfied with life. Things had gone well in Battersea and after all these years he’d finally got the hags off his back. It had been worth every penny, and he didn’t feel guilty. He had at last shrugged off his promise to a dying man and now wished he’d done it years ago.
Jenny’s parents would be here soon, Marcos thought as he walked into the drawing room. She’d been busy, one vase of chrysanthemums on the sideboard, and he’d already seen another one on the dining room table. He’d left the gates open, but it wasn’t something he wanted to make a habit of. New ones were on order, the latest on offer, electric with an entry-phone system to ensure that nobody could gain access without permission. He glanced out of the window and saw a car pulling up behind his on the drive.
‘Jenny, they’re here,’ he said, putting a proprietary arm around her waist. ‘Let’s let them in together.’
‘Yes, all right,’ she agreed, though she looked a little apprehensive.
Marcos had to hide a smile when he opened the door. Delia was dressed to the nines in a brown and white dress, wearing a matching hat with a wide brim as though she had come to some sort of formal reception.
‘Edward, Delia, do come in.’
‘Hello, you two,’ Edward said, hugging Jenny and then Delia following suit.
‘My goodness, this is lovely,’ Delia enthused as her eyes swept the hall before coming to rest on the large crystal ch
andelier.
‘Come on through to the drawing room,’ Marcos invited.
‘I’ll make some tea.’
‘All right, darling, and while you’re doing that I’ll show your parents around.’
Delia looked puzzled, Edward too, and he was the first to speak as they walked into the room. ‘We expected the house to be empty.’
‘No, I’ve furnished it. My study is next door and there’s another reception room on the other side of the hall, along with the dining room. Come, I’ll show you.’
‘It’s all delightful,’ Delia murmured as they wandered from room to room until they were back where they started.
‘Please, sit down,’ Marcos invited. ‘I’ll show you upstairs later, but here’s Jenny with the tea.’
It was Delia who at last posed the question. ‘Marcos, have you moved in?’
‘Yes, we both have,’ he said as Jenny placed a tray on a side table.
‘What!’ Edward exploded. ‘But you aren’t married yet.’
‘Oh no, what will people think?’ Delia gasped. ‘Jennifer, you can’t do this.’
‘It’s all right, Jenny, leave this to me,’ Marcos said. ‘Delia, Edward, there’s no need for concern. Yes, we’ve moved in, but as a married couple. We moved the date forward.’
‘But why?’ Delia asked. ‘Oh, Jennifer, you’re not…’
‘Pregnant,’ Jenny finished for her. ‘No, but you’re the second person to jump to that conclusion.’
‘Then why?’ The question this time was from Edward.
‘Dad, we were on holiday in Scotland, and…and as we were already there, we thought why wait until December.’
‘Well, I can’t say I’m happy about it, but it’s done now and I suppose all that remains is to congratulate you both,’ Edward said, face straight as he shook Marcos’s hand. ‘Congratulations and welcome to the family.’
‘But Edward, I’ve booked the Grand Hotel for the reception, and the church.’
‘Well, Delia, I did warn you not to jump the gun and now you’ll just have to cancel them,’ he said, moving to kiss Jenny on the cheek. ‘Congratulations, darling. I suppose this calls for a toast.’
‘Yes, your father’s right,’ agreed Marcos. ‘Leave the tea, Jenny. I’ll open a bottle of champagne.’
‘That’s more like it,’ Edward said.
Once the champagne was poured and Jenny and Marcos were toasted, the atmosphere became lighter.
‘There are some very influential people in this crescent, Marcos,’ said Delia. ‘I think they could perhaps be useful to you. In fact you’re actually living next door to an acquaintance of mine, Penelope Grainger. If you’d like to celebrate your marriage in some way, perhaps with a small reception held here, I could invite Penelope and that might lead to other introductions.’
‘I’m afraid I’m far too busy at the moment.’
‘Oh, you need not concern yourself with the arrangements. You can leave all that to me.’
‘If we wanted to hold a reception in our home, then I would arrange it,’ Jenny said defensively. ‘But for now it’s out of the question. I want to finish the house, choose soft furnishings among other things.’
As though unaware of Jenny’s chilly manner, Delia said, ‘A delay wouldn’t matter, in fact it could be perfect. Your Aunt Beatrice and her husband are coming back to England in November and I could invite them too. My sister is married to a diplomat, Marcos, and they too are very well connected.’
‘I hardly know them,’ Jenny said.
‘We rarely saw them when you were growing up, but they’re family and I’m sure you’ll agree it will be lovely to see them.’
‘They’re your family, not mine.’
Marcos was pleased to see that Jenny was clearly still at odds with Delia, but he was looking for the same thing with her father too. He sat back, biding his time and hoping that an opportunity might arise.
‘Jennifer, please, don’t say that,’ Delia appealed. ‘I hurt you, and I really am sorry, but can’t we make a fresh start? We could do things together, such as shopping, and I could help you to choose your drapes.’
‘I’m perfectly capable of choosing them myself.’
‘I didn’t mean to imply that you couldn’t. Oh…oh dear, I feel like I’m walking on eggshells again.’ And with that, tears filled her eyes.
‘Delia, don’t get upset,’ Edward said worriedly, then turned to Jenny. ‘Can’t you see she’s trying? Can’t you at least give your mother a chance?’
‘She isn’t my mother,’ Jenny snapped, and ran from the room.
‘Delia, give her time. She just needs time,’ Edward consoled.
Marcos saw the opportunity and seized it. ‘Yes, he’s right. Jenny needs time, but I fear you’re pushing her again.’
‘But…but I only suggested shopping.’
‘I’m afraid that Jenny sees any suggestions you make as interference. In fact, I hate to tell you this, but when Jenny saw this house she was horrified and didn’t want us to live here.’
‘But why? It’s a lovely house.’
‘She didn’t want to be this close to you.’
As Delia gasped, Edward threw an arm around her, and Marcos saw a flash of anger in the older man’s eyes as he looked up at him.
‘My wife is upset enough. Did you have to tell her that?’
‘I’m sorry, but my concerns are for Jenny and what she’s been through. I persuaded her to move in here, but now I’m starting to regret it. From what I’ve just seen it’s obvious she isn’t ready for a mother-daughter relationship – especially because, from what she’s told me, they never had one in the past.’
‘Now that’s enough!’
‘It’s all right, Edward, and anyway, Marcos is right,’ Delia said, dabbing her eyes. ‘I just don’t know what to do, how to build bridges.’
‘May I make a few suggestions?’ said Marcos.
‘Yes, please do,’ she said.
‘Firstly, as your husband says, give Jenny time, take things very slowly. Now that you’ve found her again, I know you both want to see more of her, but remember it wasn’t Jenny who came to you. She was happily living an independent life, and if you force yourself on her, or if she feels that you’re interfering in any of her decisions, she’ll just back away.’
‘So what you’re saying,’ Edward said, his voice still tinged with anger, ‘is that we should wait until Jenny comes to us?’
‘I’m afraid so. Of course I’ll do all I can to help,’ Marcos lied. ‘With no family of my own now I really appreciate that you’ve welcomed me into yours. But if you’ll excuse me for a moment, I must see if Jenny is all right.’
Marcos left them, hoping he had said enough to ensure that Jenny’s parents now kept their distance. He didn’t want their interference and if it hadn’t worked there were other options. Extreme ones, yes – but it would take them out of the picture.
Jenny was annoyed that she had let Delia get under her skin again. Instead of appearing poised and in control, she had reacted like a child. Delia hadn’t changed, she was still devious, a consummate actress, and just as she’d done in the past, Jenny realised she’d played into her hands. Delia now appeared like the wronged one, the one who needed sympathy and, as she suspected, her father was falling for it, just as Robin had.
She gripped the kitchen sink, feeling powerless, and now regretted the day her father had found her. She’d been told that Delia wanted to make amends, but Jenny began to wonder what her real motives were. Delia had wanted rid of her, had planned and schemed to drive her out, so why pretend now that she wanted reconciliation?
Unable to work it out, Jenny felt arms wrap around her waist and then Marcos kissed the back of her neck.
‘Are you all right, darling?’
Ashamed of her behaviour, Jenny turned into his arms. ‘I’m sorry, Marcos. I ran from the room like a child.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘But it does. I was so on the defensive tha
t I put myself in a bad light, upset her, and you saw how my father responded.’
‘Yes, and I’m sorry, but I’m afraid it annoyed me. He knows what you’ve been through, but when I jumped to your defence and told Delia a few home truths he was angry with me for upsetting her again.’
Jenny found herself fuming on Marcos’s behalf. Her father was obviously blind when it came to Delia and so he had turned on Marcos, but she wasn’t going to stand for that. She had run away, leaving Marcos to speak up for her, but she didn’t intend to put him in that position again. ‘I’m going to tell them to leave.’
‘Darling, there’s no need for that. We’ve sorted it out and everything is fine now. Delia won’t interfere again, and they both know that any invitation to see them again must come from you.’
‘After this they’ll be few and far between – if ever. I’m happier when it’s just you and me,’ Jenny said, clinging to Marcos, sure it was true. Her father and Delia had been out of her life for so long, and seeing them again had served only to dredge up bad memories, ones it seemed her father now expected her to simply forget.
‘Are you feeling better now?’ Marcos asked.
‘Yes, thank you. Let’s go back to the drawing room,’ Jenny said, feeling stronger and more determined than ever to tell her parents to leave.
Edward stared at his daughter. She looked so cold, her voice icy as she told them to leave.
‘Jenny, please, there’s no need for this.’
‘I think there is.’
Marcos put an arm around her waist. ‘Jenny is still upset and it might be for the best.’
‘But we’ve barely been here an hour.’
Delia came to his side. ‘Come on, Marcos is right, Edward. We should leave.’
‘So this was your idea, not Jenny’s,’ Edward snapped, eyes glaring hard at Marcos.
‘No, it was mine, ‘Jenny snapped. ‘And don’t speak to my husband like that!’
‘It’s all right, darling,’ Marcos cajoled. ‘It doesn’t matter and I think we should all calm down.’
‘It matters to me.’