by Jacobs, Anna
The café closed at ten, like most of the shops in the centre, which was a relief to Brian, whose feet were aching. But he went home with a stomach full of the leftovers of a cottage pie that he’d shared with Mel, and some other bits and pieces in takeaway containers, along with his shopping.
‘It’d only be thrown away,’ Mel said cheerfully. ‘Nine o’clock tomorrow morning, OK? We get a lot of Sunday shoppers popping in for coffee and cakes.’
‘Yes.’
He drove home feeling good about this. His father would throw a fit at him for taking on such a menial job but he rather thought his mother would approve.
At nine o’clock Molly heard a car drive down from the hotel and stop nearby. She went to peer out of the window. It was Euan. As he got out, he stretched, easing his back as if it was aching.
Worry about him overcame prudence and she went to join him outside his house, only a minute’s walk down the hill.
He turned to watch her come towards him, smiling and rotating his shoulders again.
‘Is it done?’
‘It is. Those packers were wonderful, and so was the cleaning team.’ He turned to look at the house. ‘Did my things arrive safely?’
‘Yes. Avril saw them into the house. Um . . . Euan, have you had anything to eat?’
‘No. And if you’re offering to feed me again, yes, please. I’m taking shameful advantage of you, but I will make it up to you, I promise.’
‘Come up to the caravan when you’re ready, then.’
As she walked away, she heard him open the front door of his house and wished she could see inside, but it hadn’t been opened for viewing. If this was his showpiece for the bigger, detached houses, it must be something special, because the others were beautifully built and finished.
He was up within ten minutes.
‘Everything OK?’ she asked.
‘Perfect. Avril’s even hung up my clothes. All I have to do is unpack my computer and set it up.’ He sniffed. ‘Something smells good.’
‘It’s just home-made soup and toasted sandwiches. I’d have done something better, but I wasn’t sure you’d want a meal. You might have grabbed one on the way back.’ She realized she was babbling nervously and stopped herself from saying anything except, ‘Glass of wine or cup of coffee?’
‘Wine, please. You’re joining me, surely?’
She poured him a glass and went to take her own half-empty wine glass from the shelf. ‘I was ahead of you.’ She raised the glass. ‘Here’s to your new home.’
He clinked his against it. ‘And to good friends who help out when you need them.’
It was so good to feel useful again. She’d missed that dreadfully.
At eleven o’clock that evening someone knocked on the door of the flat and Jamie opened it to find two of Rachel’s friends holding her up and laughing hysterically. Her head was lolling and she had no shoes on.
‘Brought her home for you. She’s absolutely legless.’
One of them giggled and added, ‘We didn’t let her go off with that guy, though. You owe us one for that.’
Shocked rigid, he took his wife from them. ‘Where’s her handbag?’
‘Oh, nearly forgot.’ One of them passed it to him. ‘Sorry about the shoes. Couldn’t find them.’
Rachel’s eyes weren’t focusing and she was mumbling something. He wasn’t at all sure she’d even recognized him. ‘Thanks.’
‘Got to go. Taxi’s waiting.’
He nudged the door shut with his hip and carried Rachel into the living area. It was the smell which alerted him to the fact that she’d thrown up all over herself. Grimly, he took her into the bathroom and stripped off her clothes, then his own. Although she squirmed and protested, he held her under the shower till she was, at least, clean, then wrapped her up in a bath towel.
‘Sleepy,’ she murmured and closed her eyes.
In case anything else went wrong, he put her in the spare bed. He wasn’t risking her vomiting over him during the night.
Then anger took over, such boiling fury that it was ages before he got to sleep. She’d been ready to go off with someone, had she? So drunk she didn’t care, or was this something she’d done before? What price their marriage vows?
Handsome is as handsome does, his granny used to say. Well, Rachel might be good looking, but her behaviour wasn’t at all handsome. In fact, it sickened him.
Eleven
On Saturday morning, Molly woke up early, as usual. As she was sitting enjoying her first cup of tea of the day, a figure in running gear trotted past her caravan. Euan. She smiled. She might have known he was into fitness and exercise. She enjoyed a brisk walk, but she wasn’t into running.
The sales office wasn’t open till ten, so she planned to go shopping first. Had Euan meant it about doing some housekeeping for him? She’d better find out exactly what he wanted.
He came back after half an hour, so she waited a few minutes, then walked down to his house.
He opened the door, looking rosy with damp hair, as if he’d just showered. ‘Come in!’
‘I only wanted to ask if you’d like me to do some grocery shopping for you when I do mine this morning.’
‘I don’t have any early appointments today. Let’s do it together. That’ll be much more fun. When will you be ready?’
‘Ten to eight? I don’t think the local supermarket opens till eight.’
‘Are you always up so early?’
‘Yes. I wake up automatically soon after five. It used to drive Craig mad. He was a night owl, but dragged himself out of bed early a couple of times a week to go to the gym at work because the chairman is big on exercise.’ And hadn’t Craig been grumpy on those mornings!
‘I love running and most sports. Do you play golf?’
‘Heavens, no. I’m useless at ball games.’
‘Once this village is up and running, I intend to play quite often.’ He looked longingly towards the nearest green, where three men were watching intently as another made a careful shot from near the hole.
‘Good luck to you. Um . . . before we set off, do you have any food in the house? We don’t want to buy something if you have it already.’
‘I’ve only got a few bits and pieces. Look, come in and I’ll show you, then if you can take over keeping the basic supplies available here, it can be part of your job.’
She stopped in the hall to stare round. ‘This house is very different from the row houses.’
‘Yes. The detached places are quite a bit more upmarket. We’ll do a proper tour another time, because you may have to show this one to people. See – formal lounge/dining, great room, utility room and home office downstairs. Two bedrooms on the middle floor, each with ensuite, two more rooms on the third floor with a shared bathroom. What do you think?’
‘I love the way the living areas are spacious and I’d love to go all over the house, but if we’re to do the shopping in time, we need to get a move on.’
She studied his single shelf of supplies in the walk-in pantry in surprise, then peeped into the near-empty fridge. ‘Is that all the food you brought with you?’
‘’Fraid so. I’ve been neglecting the home front lately, eating out most of the time.’ He winked at her. ‘My nearest neighbour here has been particularly kind about feeding me.’
‘I didn’t exactly lay on a feast. A few sandwiches are nothing. I can always cater for a friend.’
‘Yes, you would be able to.’ His smile was particularly warm as he said that. ‘See you in ten minutes.’
Shopping with Euan was fun. She saw other women eyeing him, then looking enviously at her. She wished . . . Oh, stop it, you fool! Just go with the flow.
By ten o’clock, they were back and opening up the sales office.
At eleven Euan’s first appointment turned up; a man he knew already and clearly got on well with. He took him down to look round the houses.
Molly enjoyed the quietness. Well, it was mainly quiet. She could hear the men
working on the new row of houses. A glance out of the window showed that they were making excellent progress. It wouldn’t be long before the new row of houses was finished. They were carrying in fridges and cookers to the end two now, and the outside timbers were getting their second coat of paint.
At twelve o’clock the noise stopped and soon afterwards, two vehicles drove past.
Euan came back and immersed himself in work on his computer. He looked up to say, ‘You might as well surf the Net, have a bit of fun. There’s nothing you can be doing here till someone turns up.’
‘Are you sure? It feels like . . . cheating.’
Another of those warm smiles. ‘You’d never cheat, Molly.’
She was surprised when he suggested she go to lunch. She hadn’t realized it was one o’clock already.
As she ate some cheese and crunchy vegetables with hummus in the caravan, she decided to pick up her emails. It had been days since she’d bothered, but she didn’t get many these days so it probably didn’t matter.
When she found a message from her son, her breath caught in her throat and she had to take a few deep breaths before she could pluck up the courage to open it.
For Brian, master of the terse word, it was a long email. What it said brought tears to her eyes.
She nearly answered straight away, but something held her back, told her not to rush into this. She wanted to think carefully about her answer, about whether she’d tell Brian where she was. And she wasn’t sure she believed he was sorting himself out. He’d lived to drink and party, like her daughter.
What worried her most was that he might tell his father where she was. She’d found the courage to do a lot of new things, but wasn’t sure she’d find the courage to face up to her ex.
When she went back to the office, Euan took one look at her and said bluntly, ‘What’s upset you?’
She blinked, horrified to find more tears filling her eyes, and before she knew it, he’d come round the desk and put his arms round her.
‘What’s happened? Tell me.’
‘My son’s emailed. It’s the first time I’ve heard from him since I threw him out.’
‘If he’s been saying something to upset you . . .’
‘He hasn’t. He’s worried about me, wants to know where I am. And . . . he says he’s sorry and is sorting himself out.’
‘And that’s upset you?’
‘Mmm. Because how do I know he means it? If he does, it’s what I hoped for. If he doesn’t, if he’s pretending because he wants something from me – well, I don’t know what I’ll do. I don’t think I can cope with any more . . . disappointments.’
‘You’re not sure about him? Not sure he’s telling the truth?’
‘Not sure at all. All three of them could always fool me easily. I was the original soft touch. And they were always so scornful towards me.’
He rocked her in his arms. ‘Oh, my little love, you didn’t deserve that.’
She gasped at what he’d said. ‘What did you call me?’
‘My little love,’ he repeated, following this up by a gentle kiss on her lips. ‘It’s happened very quickly, but I seem to have fallen in love with you.’ He brushed a strand of damp hair off her forehead. ‘But you’re not certain whether to believe me, or whether you dare trust me. How could they have done this to you?’
‘How could I have let them?’
‘There is that. Would you let them again?’
‘No. Definitely not. But it took a lot to strengthen my backbone, so I’m not proud of myself.’
‘Onwards and upwards. Now, about your son. Do you know where he’s living now?’
‘No. I only have his email address and his mobile phone number.’
‘Why don’t you give him a ring, then?’
But she shook her head. ‘Not till I’m in better control of myself. I’ve been too weak in the past. I’m not hurrying to smooth things over.’ She realized she was still in his arms and oh, she didn’t want to move away.
He smiled and dropped another of those sudden kisses on the tip of her nose. ‘I like hugging you. I like kissing you, too, and we need to talk about ourselves, but this is neither the time nor the place for it because unfortunately, someone’s just driven up and parked.’
‘I didn’t even hear the car.’ She stepped hastily back. ‘Thanks for the . . . the comfort.’
‘My pleasure. Oh, and would you please come out with me tomorrow night? I’d say tonight, but I’ve a long time arrangement to see some old friends. Next time I go to see them, I’ll take you with me.’
She couldn’t pretend. ‘I’d love to go out with you tomorrow night.’
‘And wear something pretty. I know a great restaurant.’
She looked at him doubtfully.
It took him a minute to work out what the problem was. ‘I’ll come over and help you decide what to wear. I’m good at clothes. It’ll be fun being your dresser.’
Stuart helped his mother plan the funeral, which left her tearful, so he didn’t pursue the question of what she was going to do afterwards, saying only that he’d be over the following day for a chat about the future.
Since they were both early birds, he was at her house by eight o’clock. She looked tired and strained, as if she’d not slept well, and her eyes were reddened. His heart clenched with love and he swept her into his arms. ‘You need a hug.’
She clung to him for a moment or two, then pushed away and gave him a watery smile. ‘You were right. I did need that. Want a cup of something as we talk?’
‘I’ve just finished a mug of tea, thanks.’
She led the way into the sitting room. ‘I can still manage my life perfectly well, you know. I’m not a child nor am I in my dotage.’
‘I know you can manage, but I don’t like the thought of you being here on your own.’
‘Well, that’s how it is. I’m not moving anywhere and I’m not going into one of those retirement places. This is my home and I want to stay here till . . . the end.’
‘I knew you wouldn’t want to move, so I think it’s about time I told you my news, though I’d be grateful if you’d keep it to yourself for the time being. Don’t even tell the rest of the family. I’m going to be part of a big new company dealing with electronic security in an age of terrorism. It’s international and though I’ll be based in England, I’ll be doing a lot of travelling all over the world.’
‘Sounds exciting, just up your street.’
‘It is. But Wendy’s sick of travelling and following me around. Her wire sculptures are getting very popular – well, I love them myself. They take your eyes into so many soothing curves. I’ve held her career up for long enough, so we’re going to buy a house and settle down properly, a house big enough for a decent workshop for her. In fact, the one we both want to buy is Molly’s house. We love living here. Do you think she’d sell it to us?’
‘I think she’d be glad to. She’d have sold it by now if it hadn’t been for those louts harassing her. I do hope you’ve sorted them out.’
‘The first round went to me. I think they’ll be back, though, once her ex finds out I’m buying the house. He’ll want to put me off the neighbourhood, as he did the other buyers. Though maybe we can get round that by buying and selling secretly.’ He waited. ‘What do you think, Ma? Would you like me for a permanent neighbour?’
‘I can’t think of anything nicer. You and Wendy both.’
‘Good. I’ll email Molly once the funeral is over and ask if I can go down to Wiltshire to talk about the house. Now, do you need any help with the guest list?’
‘It won’t be a long one. Most of our friends have died or are too infirm to come. Old age is cruel. It steals your life from you one piece at a time. I’ll rough out a list then check with you two. I rang your brother and he’s flying here from Australia for the funeral. I wish he’d managed to get back for a visit before . . . it happened.’
‘Yes, so do I.’
‘What about your da
ughters, Stuart?’
‘I’m sure they’ll come down from the north for it. Wendy rang them last night.’
He left her and started back towards his house, then turned back, intending to tap on the kitchen window and tell her something he’d forgotten.
But she was sobbing bitterly at the kitchen table, head on her arms. He hesitated, tears coming into his own eyes at the sight of his mother weeping. But he moved quietly away, leaving her to her grief.
Some things you needed to do in private. And no one could weep for you.
Saturday morning dawned sunny and bright. Jamie woke early, in spite of a restless night. Something had woken him. What was it? He raised his head and heard the sound of Rachel dry retching in the bathroom. Throwing off the covers, he dragged on his dressing gown and went to stand in the doorway.
She turned to look at him, eyes soft as a puppy’s; pretty even now and looking as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. ‘Oh, Jamie, I feel terrible.’
‘It’s your own fault.’
She groaned and rubbed her temples. ‘Don’t shout at me.’
‘I wasn’t shouting. Do you remember coming home last night?’
‘No. Was I very noisy?’
‘On the contrary, you were nearly unconscious and you’d thrown up over yourself.’
‘Ugh. I hope you put my clothes to soak.’
Somehow, this was the final straw. ‘No, I didn’t. I’m damned if I’m going to clear up your messes.’
She didn’t seem to hear. In a little girl voice, she pleaded, ‘Best of darlings, would you please get me some coffee and four paracetamols? I’ve got such a headache.’
‘Get them yourself. I’m going out.’ He began to fling his clothes on, hearing her shuffle into the kitchen, groaning as she opened a cupboard.
When he started to unlock the front door, she called out in a sharper voice, ‘Jamie? Where are you going?’
‘Out!’ he yelled at the top of his voice, then slammed the door after himself.
He heard her calling, ‘Don’t go. Jamie!’ But he didn’t dare stay at home today to watch her nurse a hangover. In his current mood, it’d be all too easy to say something he might regret.
Might regret . . . or might not.