Joanne and John were there and Henri’s pregnancy was discussed.
‘The world has been tipped on its head,’ Cynthia said. ‘The months of anxiety when there was the suspicion of subsidence, and the storm destroying two houses, and now Henri’s problem.’
‘It’s our problem too,’ Joanne said. ‘Jeremy and I will have to help her through this.’
* * *
In Churchill’s Garden a few days later, Cynthia appeared and began talking about her latest shopping spree as though nothing had happened. Cath talked openly about the death of her children and the meeting with her husband, which was painful, but left her with hope.
Meriel shyly insisted that she and Mike were just good friends.
Vivienne, who had Toby with her and was feeding him sweets at a rate of knots, told them of her return to the husband she had left two years before. She did not mention the reasons for the break-up and knew that Meriel would never reveal her secret.
‘Now, Joanne,’ Helen said. ‘What about you sharing your news with us, eh?’
Joanne was beautifully dressed in a suit of pale blue with a frilly white blouse and long dangling earrings that matched a brooch on her lapel. Her make-up was flawless, her hair immaculate. She looked completely at ease.
‘Oh why don’t you tell them, Helen, you’ll tell it much better than I.’
Helen looked subdued as she muttered, ‘No need to talk about it if you don’t want to, we’ll understand, Joanne.’
‘I don’t see why I should pretend it’s a secret, you’ve known for a long time, haven’t you, Helen?’
‘I can’t help picking up bits and pieces, odd items of news. People talk to each other in the shop without being aware that I’m there sometimes, Just treat me like one of the fittings they do,’ she said attempting a laugh.
‘All right what would you like first? The bits and pieces and odd items about John having a second family, with my sister Samantha? Three children they have, all daughters. Now, would that make me their aunt or their half-stepmother? Or pre—stepmother? Is there such a thing? Very confusing, that one.’
Cynthia was shocked. ‘Joanne, I’d no idea—’
‘— Or the bits and pieces about my son, Jeremy, who’s about to be a father, at fifteen?’ She stood up and announced that she was going for more coffee. ‘To allow you to get the first exchange of opinions over,’ she said with a forced smile.
* * *
Meriel and Mike had discussed her pregnancy and any doubts she’d had were firmly in the past. His delight and happiness showed in the silly smile that, he told her, just wouldn’t fade away, and in the flowers he brought her and the proposal that came with the flowers. She hadn’t told her friends in Churchill’s Garden. Being ‘just friends’ was enough for the moment.
She wanted to savour this wonderful new life on which she was embarking. Time to tell others when they had wallowed in their happiness a while longer. Besides, there had been enough gossip for one day, with Joanne’s news and Cath’s revelations. No, she would save her wonderful news for a morning when it would be given the importance it deserved.
It was a day when happiness was all around. She was in such a constant air of excitement that she was looking for excuses to laugh. She found one when she suddenly realized that Joanne, with her emphasis on youth and being beautiful, would soon be a grandmother. How would she cope?
Gradually life in the houses near the cliff returned to normal. Repairs were assessed and the demolition of the pair of semis took place.
Sophie went to stay with her friend in Abertrochi and Evan found accommodation in a small hotel. Evan called several times to talk to Meriel but she never allowed him through the door. Now he needed her, she had the strength to remember the times she had needed him and help had not been forthcoming. In something near despair he went to find Sophie.
* * *
Joanne’s house needed very little work, and most of that was cosmetic. She wrote to John via his office and told him she was putting the house on the market as soon as the decorating was finished. Dai came frequently to help her sort out insurance claims and deal with the workmen, but eventually, she thanked him, and told him she no longer needed him. This was a time in her life when she needed to be on her own, to make her own decisions. She went to the Gingham Cafe and they shared a pot of tea and some scones, then he said, ‘You know how I feel about you. I love and respect you. I admire you as a mother and as a talented and beautiful woman. Share my life, Joanne. You and I could have a wonderful future together. Equal partners, building a business together. You, me and your sons. What do you say?’
‘I have to say sorry, my dear. I’m fond of you, but I need to go on alone, for a while at least.’
‘But Joanne, I thought you felt the same as me?’
‘Sorry, Dai, I really am. I value your friendship, and your love and I want that to go on and on. Knowing you has given me the strength to deal with all this. But now I want to see who I really am, find out my strengths and weaknesses by facing this without your support.’
She got into her car and drove home feeling the lightness of having discarded a burden. She was free to be her own woman. Her sons, they were all she needed to fill her life, her sons and a grandchild to dote on, and a job. She put all thoughts of starting her own business on to the back burner. She didn’t feel strong enough to face that. No, serving in a clothes shop and being nice to people, helping them to choose clothes for a special occasion, that was what she would do. She hummed cheerfully as she approached her drive. Life had thrown her around cruelly but now she felt strong and knew her future looked good.
* * *
Cynthia said very little about the landslip once she had made certain everyone knew the fault was not with Christian. She pushed the dreadful incident aside and began to remind her friends how fortunate she was. How happy in her marriage and how much she appreciated her wonderful childhood, on which her happiness was based. Then her parents turned up.
Marcus was sitting at the kitchen table reading a magazine one morning. It was twelve thirty. His brothers had gone into town with their mother to buy shoes and trousers and sweaters, he had decided to stay home and, in the absence of Millie, was in charge.
He looked at the freezer to decide what they would have for lunch and, having chosen fish fingers, took them out and placed them on the grill tray. A voice calling from the doorway startled him and he almost threw the fish fingers up in the air. The woman smiling at him was a witch! She was dressed in black, had very untidy hair and her teeth didn’t look too clean. He looked at her nervously, backing away, still holding the grill pan. Then he saw there was a man behind her. A fat man, bald, and with eyes that popped out as he smiled and raised his eyebrows as a greeting.
‘You Marcus, then?’ the man asked. His voice was gravelly and low.
‘Yes, but who are you?’
‘Where are Rupert and Oliver, then?’ the woman asked.
‘Coming now this minute,’ he said, ‘With Mum and Dad, right behind you they’ll be.’ He still held the grill pan as a sort of weapon. ‘Will you go please,’ he said. ‘Mummy doesn’t like visitors she isn’t expecting.’
‘Oh, she’ll like us, Marcus. We’re your granny and grampy. Isn’t this nice?’ They came in and sat at the table, the woman looking around her and the man glaring at a troubled Marcus.
‘Better put them fish things under the grill or you’ll drop them,’ the man growled.
Marcus put them on the table. ‘I don’t have a grandmother or grandfather,’ he told them. ‘Mummy would have told me.’
A car was heard stopping outside the kitchen door and Marcus let out a huge sigh of relief and ran through the door, ‘Mum, Dad, there’s a man and woman in there and I think she’s a witch and she says she’s my grandmother!’
Christian walked into the kitchen with Cynthia close behind him.
‘Hello,’ the woman smiled. ‘At last we’ve found you. Saw the piece about
the landslide in the paper and recognized your picture. Isn’t this nice?’
‘Go to your rooms, boys,’ Christian said. The boys obeyed without question.
Christian turned to the smiling couple. In a low voice he said, ‘Go away and don’t come back. There’s nothing for you here.’
‘Living like a king and queen you two are and there’s us with grandsons we didn’t even know about. Lovely it is to see them.’
‘I’ll count to ten then I’m calling the police.’
He opened the door and stood there, while Cynthia watched the two people she hated most in the world make up their mind. They stood up as Christian counted threateningly, then ambled to the door. Christian followed them out. She was trembling when he returned, holding his mobile phone, closing and locking the door behind him.
He hugged Cynthia. ‘I hate doing it but we have to lie to them.’ He called the boys back down.
‘I’ve told the police,’ he said. ‘They knew all about them. Ill they are but completely harmless. They go around inviting themselves into houses hoping for a free meal.’
‘Sorry if they frightened you,’ Cynthia said.
‘I think they wanted some fish fingers,’ Marcus said. The twins both put an arm around their younger brother. ‘Don’t worry, they won’t be back,’ they told him. Both Cynthia and Christian crossed their fingers.
* * *
Churchill’s Garden was full. The sales were keeping the shops busy and the streets of Abertrochi were crowded with shoppers hoping for a bargain.
‘Of course John is devastated,’ Joanne was saying as she walked in. ‘He really didn’t want to leave me and the boys. Samantha was the mistress and I the important wife. But I told him no matter how he pleaded, I would never take him back.’
Cynthia and Christian were planning a big celebration after being told the contract was being reinstated. She couldn’t wait to tell her friends about the London weekend darling Christian had arranged.
‘I’m glad I went back to Tom.’ Vivienne said. ‘I know we won’t live a life as inseparable partners. We have a lot in common but I love to dance and Tom understands that and won’t stop me. We’ll both try to accept our differences for Toby’s sake. He needs a proper family. I’ve settled down now to spend every moment I can with him and he’s much happier.’ She had earlier asked the girl behind the counter to look after Toby that evening while she and her friends went to a rave, unaware she had been overheard by Cath and Meriel. ‘I never leave him with strangers now.’
Cath and Meriel exchanged glances. How easily they all exaggerated their situation, making out everything was perfect. Everything was wonderful for Cynthia, Joanne and Vivienne. No one had any worries.
Cynthia was boasting about how well she looked after Christian and how wonderfully happy they were, when two figures walked into the cafe and looked around, obviously searching for someone. She bent over and delved into her capacious leather bag and when she straightened up her parents were standing at the table.
‘Surprise, surprise,’ her mother said.
At once, Cynthia stood up and led them outside. On her mobile she dialled Christian’s number. She handed the phone to her father and watched while his face widened into a smile. Going back into the cafe she sighed dramatically.
‘A family desperately in need,’ she explained. ‘Darling Christian and his lame ducks. He’s promised to help them get a decent place to live, away from the squalor they’ve suffered recently.’
She looked out through the gift shop to the pavement outside where Christian’s car had just pulled up. She saw the couple argue, then get into the car. He would sort it out. Probably pay them to stay away. Christian always put things right.
Everything was returning to normal. Ken was no longer a partner but she thought with pleasure of Ken’s mother who was once more a part of their lives. Mrs Morris would be a surrogate grandmother for the boys and their secret would be safe with her.
‘I had such a wonderful childhood with my Aunt Marigold, and Christian didn’t want for a thing with his darling grandmother.’ She repeated the oft told story. ‘We are thankful for our good fortune and give something back when we can. Now, shall we have more coffee? And some cream cakes on me.’
She smiled confidently, but when she left her friends, she stood outside Churchill’s Garden, and looked fearfully up and down the street in a way that would become a habit.
First published in the United Kingdom in 2006 by Severn House
This edition published in the United Kingdom in 2017 by
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
57 Shepherds Lane
Beaconsfield, Bucks HP9 2DU
United Kingdom
Copyright © Grace Thompson, 2006
The moral right of Grace Thompson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781911591047
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Look for more great books at www.canelo.co
Friends and Secrets Page 26