by Lucy Dillon
‘I hope you told her we’d put things right,’ said Charles. He seemed uneasy. ‘That’s not the first time someone’s mentioned Kingston to me. The accountants weren’t very happy with the last quarter, between you and me.’
‘Really?’ It wasn’t a complete fabrication; Michelle had rung one of the girls she used to work with at the main dealership for a chat, on the hunch that Harvey might have something to cover up. You didn’t buy new cars like his on commission alone; it must have cost five times what hers had, and she knew what commission she’d been earning.
Michelle hated seeing her dad worried, but it was better than the alternative; letting Harvey get away with scamming him. ‘I thought I’d tell you rather than Harvey so there’s no embarrassment if someone is . . . up to something. I know what a team player he is.’
‘That’s thoughtful.’ Charles was reading her face shrewdly. He knew what she was trying to say; they didn’t always have to put things into words. ‘I could do with someone like you to oversee all this,’ he said, with a hopeful smile. ‘No chance of persuading you back, I suppose?’
‘Not at the moment.’ For an instant Michelle panicked that Harvey had been telling the truth – that her dad was ill and did want them to take over to let him retire. But his expression was concerned, not exhausted.
‘Thought not,’ he sighed. ‘Had to ask, though. From a selfish point of view, there’s no one else I’d rather see running it, but I’m glad you’ve got your own business. It’s good to grow something for yourself. We’ve been telling everyone about that website of yours. I think your mother must have sent everyone in the golf club a what do you call it? A link.’
‘Really?’ said Michelle. ‘Mum was telling people?’
‘She was.’ Charles ignored Carole’s clean floor and came over to put his arms around his daughter. ‘I don’t tell you enough, Michelle, but we’re so proud of you. I know things weren’t easy after that business at school, but the way you’ve pulled yourself up, and worked so hard . . . That means a lot more to an uneducated grafter like your dad than just getting on some corporate escalator. Don’t tell your brothers.’
‘I won’t.’ Michelle was moved. It was the first time he’d ever referred directly to her expulsion. She’d never even mentioned it to him after it happened, much less discussed the reason for it. She wondered what had prompted it now. ‘But I’m sorry, Dad. For embarrassing you and Mum. For wasting that money and time and . . .’
‘What? You’re apologising for that? To be perfectly honest, love, we blamed ourselves for years. Your mother and I . . . Well, we had a bit of a falling-out before we sent you there. It doesn’t matter now, all water under the bridge, but your mother didn’t want you and Owen listening to us arguing. We thought a school like that would be the best place, till we worked things out.’ He seemed determined to get it out, though he clearly felt uncomfortable.
‘You were arguing?’ A door opened in Michelle’s head, and suddenly she saw it from an adult’s perspective. ‘That was why Mum was away a lot?’
‘I’m afraid so. But you see, we patched it up. It’s probably why your mother’s so keen for you to try again with Harvey. She knew how bad things were for us, but we pulled it around.’
‘Dad,’ said Michelle, only just keeping the tears out of her voice. ‘Harvey and I . . . It’s not like you and Mum. Please believe me.’
‘We shouldn’t have sent you away,’ he said, his voice crackling.
Charles held her at arm’s length. His weathered face, toughened by years in the sun and rain of garage forecourts, tensed with emotion, and she could see tears around the edges of his eyes.
She looked into his familiar old face and wondered if he knew. He would never have said. But there was something in his eyes that hinted at a sharper pain; that something had happened to his golden girl that he hadn’t been allowed to fix. Not even allowed to try.
He pulled her into his chest again and said, sadly and fiercely, into her hair. ‘It doesn’t matter how old you are, Michelle, you’ll always be my little girl. My perfect little girl. There’s nothing you could do that would stop us loving you. I’d go to the end of the world and back for you.’
She hugged him tight. ‘I know. I know.’
For a second, she was eighteen again, when there was nothing her wise, bullish father couldn’t sort out with his money or his contacts or his savvy. But Michelle didn’t want to go back. Now she was her own fixer and sorter. It had taken a long time to get there.
‘What’s going on in here?’
Carole appeared at the kitchen island, the cordless phone ostentatiously in her hand. It looked like a prop.
‘Bit of seasonal emotion,’ said Charles, reaching into his pocket for a spotted hanky. ‘Just telling Michelle here how proud we are of her.’
‘Of course we are,’ said Carole. Her face didn’t quite match the words. ‘And we’d be even more proud if—’
‘Carole!’
‘What? You don’t know what I’m going to say.’
‘I do, Mum,’ said Michelle. She tried to temper her words by thinking of what her dad had just told her. ‘You say it every time I come here. And the answer is, sometimes things can’t be fixed. Sometimes, with the best will in the world, they’re just not right.’
‘I can say what I think in my own house, Michelle.’
Michelle looked at her mother and wished she could tell her. But Harvey had spent much longer charming her than she had.
‘Anyway, this hanky?’ said Charlie, shaking it out to blow his nose. ‘The ones you gave me for Christmas last year? Best present I got. You always did know what people needed before they knew themselves. Even when you were little.’ He smiled, and Michelle gulped.
‘Did you say you’d brought presents for Ben’s children?’ Carole asked. ‘Is it a good idea to leave them in the car?’
‘I’ll go and get them,’ said Michelle. She saw her parents exchange a silent eyebrow raise and frown, and knew that Harvey was probably on his way over to ‘drop in’. She was prepared for that, though. She’d rehearsed it with Rory until she was confident she could deliver it calmly.
Although that had been at home, in her lovely ordered house with swans outside and Tavish inside. She scanned the street nervously for signs of Harvey’s car, then shook herself. She could do this.
‘Oh, Michelle, you’ve gone a bit overboard,’ her mother said reproachfully when she brought in the fourth bag of ribbon-tied gifts. ‘What if the boys haven’t got as much for you? They’ll be embarrassed.’
‘I’m sure you can manage it,’ Michelle said. ‘They always get me the same thing anyway. Space NK voucher from Ben, Argos voucher from Jonathan. Is that meant to be a joke, by the way? Because you can tell him I always end up spending it on printer cartridges.’
Have I caught Anna’s reckless tongue syndrome? she wondered. Because it was all coming out now.
Carole sighed. ‘It’ll be so quiet this year. You won’t be here, Owen isn’t coming . . .’
‘Owen’s got his priorities right,’ said Charles. ‘He’s where he should be, spending Christmas with the in-laws. Getting to know his new family.’ He beamed at Michelle. ‘Very charming, aren’t they? Lovely girl, Becca.’
‘If you think that’s the right thing to be getting involved with,’ muttered Carole. ‘Teenage mothers . . .’
‘Mum, you weren’t much older when you had Ben,’ said Michelle. Another door opened; was that why she and her dad had hit that bump? Had Carole got to her mid-forties with four children and wondered where her life had gone?
‘I was married. And I wasn’t trapping your father into anything – I’m sorry, but it’s true. I’m only saying what everyone else is thinking.’ Her face was alive with self-righteous disapproval and Michelle felt sorry for Owen. And for Becca. And for Anna. Maybe if her mother was now sharing her disapproval between her and Owen it might lessen the impact for both of them, but she doubted it.
‘I don’t think
Owen is being trapped into anything,’ she said. ‘She’s got a place at Cambridge to read law – that’s more than Owen managed! And I can think of much worse families to be trapped in than Anna’s. Anna’s the best mother-in-law anyone could wish for. She’s . . .’
Michelle would have said something else if the doorbell hadn’t rung.
‘I wonder who that is?’ said Carole, stopping just short of putting a finger on her chin.
‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ muttered Michelle. She marched through to the door and opened it. ‘Merry Christmas, Harvey.’
To no one’s surprise Harvey was standing there, carrying a bunch of flowers with the Waitrose sticker still attached. He was wearing a Santa-patterned tie with his expensive shiny Hugo Boss suit, and it made Michelle loathe him a little bit more.
‘Hi, all, I was just passing and . . . Shelley!’ he said, opening his arms wide. ‘Great to see you!’
There was an unpleasantly triumphant gleam in his eyes, but Michelle forced herself to think of Rory, and the kind, logical way he’d helped her put her thoughts in order. Reminding her that those thoughts were, it turned out, important, and not the ramblings of a neurotic woman.
‘Shall I go and put the kettle on for a cup of tea and a mince pie?’ asked Carole, to no one.
Charles gave Harvey a long look, then said, ‘I’ll give you a hand. Mince pie, anyone?’
‘As long as they’re homemade!’ Harvey said with an obsequious smile.
He thinks I’m here to roll over, thought Michelle, and she sizzled with a rare moment of advantage.
‘For you,’ he said, pushing the spiky white bouquet into her hands. Michelle looked down at the aggressive chrysanthemums and wilted foliage and felt sorry for it.
‘How did you know I was here?’ she asked. ‘Aren’t they for Mum?’
‘Don’t tell her, then.’ Harvey flashed her a confident smile. ‘I think she’d be happy for me to give them to you. If I’d known you were here I’d have brought your Christmas present.’
‘I’ve got yours. You can have it now.’ Michelle looked at the flowers in her hand and put them on the sideboard, as if she didn’t really care what happened to them, then went into the hall to find the small parcel she’d wrapped for Harvey.
It had the same neatly tied and taped silver ribbon and bow on it as the rest. She wasn’t going to make a point that way.
‘Shall I open it now, or save it till the big day?’ asked Harvey as she handed it over. ‘Are you going to be here? Will we have that pleasure?’
‘’Fraid not, no,’ she said. ‘I’ll be in Paris. You can open it now if you want.’
He hesitated, not sure what to make of her tone.
‘Go on,’ said Michelle, before he could ask about her trip. ‘Open it. It’s a book.’
‘A book? Well, well, well. Talk about born-again intellectuals.’ Harvey started to undo the ribbon and Michelle braced herself for his reaction.
‘How to Lose Friends and Alienate People?’ He looked up.
‘Probably not a lot in there that you don’t already know, but I thought you might like the ending,’ said Michelle.
Harvey’s affability evaporated. ‘Is this your idea of a joke?’
‘Sort of.’ Michelle raised her chin to hold his hostile gaze. ‘I was going to give you Divorce for Dummies, but I thought you might already have that.’
‘What?’
‘You should be getting the divorce petition in the next day or two. Sorry about the timing but I think a new year, new start’s best for both of us. Let’s get things moving.’
‘And if I don’t want to divorce? If I want to try again, with my wife? Don’t those vows mean anything to you?’ Harvey looked martyred but angry at the same time. ‘I love you, Michelle.’ He made it sound more like an accusation.
‘Let’s drop that. This isn’t about love,’ said Michelle quietly. ‘You don’t love me. If you loved me, you’d let me go. I don’t know whether you want control of my dad’s business, or control of me, or both. You know that’s what it comes down to, and so do I. But it’s not what I want, and you can’t control me any more. I want a divorce.’
‘You know it’ll all come out if it goes to court?’ he said, his tone turning spiteful. ‘You’ll have to prove I’m unreasonable, and actually, you’re the one with mental health problems, you’re the one who was in therapy all those years. I’m only thinking about you, Shelley. Do you want your private life dragged in front of everyone? Our friends brought in to testify about your unhinged behaviour?’
‘Do you want your business arrangements dragged in front of everyone?’ she hissed back.
Harvey stepped back as if she’d spat at him. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Your business arrangements. I’ve been taking legal advice. We’d have to have our joint finances checked out for any settlement, so if you want this to go to court, fine. I’m sure you’ve got nothing to hide in that department, have you?’ She left it hanging.
Harvey didn’t flinch, but his eyes weren’t as confident as before. They were making tiny movements, as if he was thinking fast.
‘I mean, what were you planning to drag out about me?’ said Michelle. ‘I was raped when I was eighteen. I didn’t kill anyone, I didn’t steal anything, I didn’t hurt anyone. I only told you because I loved you and I wanted to share my biggest secret with you, so you’d understand why I was how I was. I didn’t think you’d spend the next seven years making sure I stayed that way. Now I realise it should never have been a secret in the first place.’
As soon as she’d told Rory, and watched his face freeze with sympathy and horror, not disgust, it was as if a spell had been broken. Michelle was suddenly flying above the scene, seeing it again as if it had happened to someone else, and her heart broke for different reasons. She’d shaped her life around the one night, like a tree growing crookedly around a wall, growing only to cover it up, never branching outwards. Just inwards.
Harvey wasn’t going to give up so easily. ‘And how do you think your dad would react if he found out that his princess had been keeping that secret from him all this time? Eh? Think about it.’ He curled his lip. ‘Wouldn’t take much to tell him. Might make him wonder what else you’ve been keeping from him all these years. Like why you decided to run away from his business so quickly?’
Michelle steeled herself. ‘I should have done this a long time ago, and I’m sorry I didn’t,’ she said. ‘Start again. Find someone else. I don’t want money or the house, I just want Flash. You’ve had him for the last three years. Let me have him now and keep everything else.’
’You’re not capable of looking after him,’ said Harvey nastily. ‘You can’t even keep your own legs closed. Little sluts like you never change, but they always get what they deserve. You just watch. Your dad might think you’re something special, but your mother doesn’t. She knows the real you. Just like I do.’
Michelle heard something clatter to the floor behind her, then roll along the floorboards and crack. It sounded like a plate of mince pies. Harvey’s face froze, then flushed a dark red.
‘Out,’ said a voice behind her, a voice so sharp with rage Michelle barely recognised it. ‘Get out of this house right now before I throw you out.’
She turned and saw her mother standing in the hall, her eyes furious. She seemed bigger, suddenly. Like a lioness.
Harvey only hesitated a second, then he turned and left.
Carole gazed at Michelle for a long second, her face freezing, then contorting with shame, and then she opened her arms wide.
33
‘My favourite Jilly Cooper novel will always be Rivals. If Rupert Campbell-Black can find true love (after bonking his way round Britain!), then I reckon anyone can have a happy ever after. . .’
Michelle Nightingale
Once she was back in her own home, in her own life, the only thing Michelle really wanted was a hot chocolate and half a slice of cake with Anna to put things right, like the old days, but
Anna was impossible to get hold of.
They were both working flat out, Michelle in Home Sweet Home and Anna next door, with Becca and Chloe helping, but instead of hanging around for the daily debrief as they’d done in the early days, Anna was out of the shop before the ‘closed’ sign stopped swinging. She’d stopped giving Michelle pages of suggestions for community activities, and wasn’t even updating the reviews on the website any more. As far as Anna was concerned, it seemed from the rather formal Christmas card Michelle had got in the post – not hand-delivered – that they were work-mates. Not mates.
It wasn’t that Anna was actively rude to Michelle, but for someone as warm and interested as she usually was, her civility felt worse than outright insults. The sparkle in her face had gone and her shoulders slumped with a permanent sadness that Michelle couldn’t bear. She couldn’t share her happy amazement about Rory when Anna was clearly so miserable with Phil, and for the first time she realised how Anna must have felt on the other side of the happiness fence, watching her trudge on, refusing to discuss it. Michelle didn’t have Anna’s natural way of teasing out a problem, and she was scared of making things worse.
Even Rory had to admit defeat. ‘I tried to ask her if she fancied a pre-Christmas sherry with the Reading Aloud team. But she wasn’t having it. Too busy,’ he told Michelle one evening, bewildered by Anna’s unusual lack of enthusiasm.
The manic shopping days to Christmas passed in a blur of Dean Martin and mulled wine and pine-scented candles and beeping tills. Normally Michelle would have stayed in the shop right up to Christmas Eve, getting her lonely Christmas fix from the decorations and Carols from Kings, but this year Rory insisted on her handing the keys to Gillian on the twenty-second and leaving the festive spirit to him.
‘She’s coming to Paris with me, Gillian,’ he said firmly. ‘If you need anything, it can wait until the day after Boxing Day.’
‘Unless the shop’s burning down,’ said Michelle. ‘Or there’s a break-in. Or if Tavish is ill. Or—’
‘I’ll deal with it,’ said Gillian. ‘I have my instructions.’