by Lisa Hill
‘Oh my God!’ Pamela hissed, dropping her sunglasses down to get a better look. ‘I can’t believe it!’
‘What?’ Jack asked, following her gaze.
‘It’s Jean! There! You can hardly miss her; she’s so big, she practically blocks out the sun.’
‘Pamela, that isn’t very nice.’
Pamela blushed. It wasn’t nice, but it was true and unfortunately, sibling rivalries were deeply rooted in one’s conscience. ‘Sorry, but you know, it’s a defence mechanism. My heart’s beating nineteen to the dozen.’ She patted her chest with her hand.
Jack took her hand and squeezed it. ‘It’s going to be fine,’ he said, looking deeply into her eyes. ‘This is what you wanted, isn’t it? So, Jean and Mike can be at our wedding.’
Their wedding.
The palpitations eased a bit. Pamela grinned. ‘Yes,’ she said, dizzily getting to her feet.
‘But before you get carried away with your sister,’ Jack’s voice sounded urgent, ‘I need to finish telling you about the stores.’
‘What about the stores?’
Jack took a deep breath. ‘I’ve agreed to run the stores for a week while Johnnie and Louise go to Italy. I’ll need your help too, please.’
Pamela stared at Jack as she registered what he’d just said. Part of her wanted to shout you’ve done what?! but then she looked at this kind and loving man, looking into her eyes, pleading for her help and remembered just how much he had done for her in the past year-and-a-half. She owed him.
‘Okay,’ she said, nodding vigorously, ‘that’s fine.’ And if it wasn’t fine and she couldn’t find her way around the till she’d offer to look after Cam, Ant and Eve and draft Lottie in to help Jack.
‘Really?’
Pamela laughed. ‘Don’t sound so surprised. We’re getting married; we’re a team now!’
‘Well, thank you,’ Jack said, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. He looked both relieved and pleased in equal measures.
‘Now, do I look okay, because I’m pretty sure Mum and Jean are making a beeline for our stall and—’
‘Morning Pammie,’ Audrey’s voice sang.
‘You look as beautiful as ever,’ Jack whispered in her ear.
Pamela cleared her voice. ‘Hello, Mum.’ She risked a glance at Jean. ‘Jean,’ she said, averting her gaze, feeling more than ever like the fifteen-year-old who used to fight over David Cassidy posters with her younger sister.
‘Hello, Pamela.’ There was a generous helping of resentment in Jean’s greeting.
‘Um—’ oh gosh, her chest was beating fast again. She mustn’t let Jean see her all of a dither. ‘How are you?’
Jean looked down at Pamela’s extended, bejewelled hand. ‘What are you doing?’
Audrey let out a little cackle and all faces turned to look at her, the sun shining on her silky, white bob making it light up like a halo.
‘What’s so funny?’ Jean asked.
‘You two! Honestly, no different to when you were youngsters; always fighting and wanting to get one up on the other!’
Jean looked back at Pamela and Pamela tried her hardest not to avert her gaze this time.
An awkward silence prevailed as the two women stared each other out like a pair of six-year-olds having a blinking contest. Around them there were squeals and whoops of delight coming from the carousel and a regular thwack as several children and parents tried their best at Splat the Rat.
‘Tell you what,’ Jack said, obviously unable to bear any further silence between the Wiggins sisters, ‘why don’t you take Audrey and Jean over to the refreshments tent and have a cream tea. I think Louise made the scones, so they’re bound to be good.’
‘Oh,’ Audrey said, clasping her hands together, her handbag swaying in the crook of her arm, ‘that sounds like a wonderful idea, don’t you think girls?’
Pamela shot Jack a what-the-hell-do-you-think-you’re-doing look, but it was too late, Audrey was already leading the way.
‘Come along Pammie, my treat!’
‘Thanks a lot,’ Pamela whispered to Jack.
‘Just remember,’ Jack said in a low murmur, ‘that this is what you wanted; a reunion with Jean. Ahead of our forthcoming nuptials.’ He winked.
***
‘James, will you stop it! We’ll run out of cream at this rate,’ Rebecca laughed, flicking her ponytail over her shoulder, as she added marshmallows to the top of the exuberant amount of whipped cream James had just squirted into the cardboard cup.
‘It is a well-known fact that hot chocolates require an excessive amount of whipped cream, a generous helping of marshmallows, and—’ he took the cup back and started shaking his metal duster, ‘—a delicate topping of chocolate powder. There you go, two pounds, please. Actually, forget it, Evie,’ he said to Eve, who had been giggling the entire way through the spectacle James had just put on. ‘This one’s on me.’
‘Uncle James, you are so silly,’ she laughed, ‘but thank you.’
‘No problem,’ he said, taking some change out of his pocket and dropping it into the plastic tub they were using to collect takings for the refreshments tent.
Rebecca smiled as she watched Eve carefully take her overflowing, creamy hot chocolate across to where her friends were gathered. Would she ever get to be the proud mother of such a beautiful daughter one day? Who knew, but as for today, she was enjoying it much more than she’d anticipated.
Out the corner of her eye she could see James looking at her. ‘What?’ she asked, dusting her face with her fingers. ‘Have I got cocoa on my face?’
‘No.’ He smiled. A warm, content smile, as if he were appraising her through different eyes than he normally did at work. ‘I was just thinking how much that pinstripe apron suits you. I don’t usually get to see you in casual clothes; you’re usually in one of your power suits, with killer heels, not flats and skinny jeans.’ He sighed, contentedly. ‘It suits you. Perhaps I’ll see more of this side of you, when you move to the village?’
Rebecca couldn’t help herself, her face broke into a full-on grin. She hoped so too, secretly. Her stomach fizzed with anticipation; this could become a reality; she could feasibly shake off the old, bitchy Rebecca and start afresh, here in Clunderton. She almost needed to pinch herself this was real…
‘Ah, James, there you are. I’ve got someone to introduce you to!’
…it was if her stomach had been on a fluttery rinse mode and suddenly lurched into drain and spin.
Fuuuuuck!
‘Oh. Hi Mum.’ James looked longingly at Rebecca before turning his attention to the gathering of women.
Rebecca’s blood thudded through her as if she’d just discovered a dead body. Perhaps it was a premonition; perhaps she’d be the dead body in a minute.
‘James, this is your aunt, Jean. Jean this is my other son, James, the one you haven’t met.’
Pamela was so excited about introducing her long-lost family – a family she had pretended to be dead for forty years, according to Edward – she hadn’t clocked Rebecca. Rebecca wondered if there was any way of escaping the tent subtly, without Pamela noticing her. The problem was her entire body had frozen to the spot and was trembling like a leaf, like the proverbial rabbit in the headlights and somewhere, deep in the recesses of the back of her mind, Rebecca knew she needed to do this.
She needed to face her fear.
‘Please to meet you,’ said the woman, who must be Jean, but looked nothing like Pamela.
‘Aren’t you going to introduce us to your girlfriend, James?’ Audrey asked, innocently.
‘Er—’
If Rebecca had been nervous, seeing James looking equally so practically made her want to vomit all over the grass.
‘—colleague, not girlfriend, not yet, anyway.’ He laughed, nervously.
Rebecca was praying for someone to come and ask for a cup of tea and a scone to distract the three pairs of eyes which all turned to stare at her.
‘Sorry, m
y mistake—’ Audrey began.
‘Re-becc-a.’ Pamela spat out every syllable.
Rebecca’s mouth instantly turned dry. She tried to speak but her tongue just wouldn’t unstick from the roof of her mouth.
‘Now, Mum—’
‘REBECCA?!’ Audrey shouted, incredulously. ‘THE Rebecca?’ She looked at Pamela for affirmation, but Pamela’s glowering stare was solidly fixed on Rebecca.
She swallowed hard, feeling a cold sweat break out under her blouse on what was turning out to be the hottest day of summer so far.
‘What is she doing here?’ Pamela spoke to James, her accusatory eyes still piercing into Rebecca.
‘Mum, could you not talk about Rebecca as if she wasn’t here.’
‘Oh, I’m perfectly aware of her existence, thank you very much.’ She raked her hand through the back of her immaculate blonde bob before smoothing it back down again, edging ever closer to Rebeca as if she might lash out with those long, French manicured nail extensions at any second.
‘I, um—’ finding her voice, Rebecca suddenly found herself wanting to have her say. She’d feared this moment for so long, buried it at the back of her mind, she’d never even thought to consider what she might say, if she ever came face-to-face with Pamela again.
‘Oh, we don’t need to hear from you; there is not one syllable you could utter from those rosebud lips of yours which would even come close to explaining how you stole my husband!’
‘Well, technically,’ James tried to intervene, ‘Jack kind of—’
‘Do not bring Jack into this!’ Pamela shrieked.
James flicked his hair away from his face and put his hands on his jean-clad hips. ‘Now, hang on a minute, Mum, Rebecca was just as much a victim as you. Dad—’
‘Wait a minute,’ Jean interjected. ‘Is this the bit of fluff which Edward was having it off with?’
Rebecca closed her eyes. If she’d never believed in karma before, today was the day to begin; sins catching up with you and all that. She was repentant all right, but this was so humiliating. In front of the entire village! Although somewhere, above all the anxiety and stress coursing through her body, leaving her shoulders to shoot up around her ears, the word James had just used to describe her lingered.
Victim.
He didn’t see her as the harlot, husband stealing, jezebel like everyone else did.
‘Yes, it is!’ Pamela shrieked. The hubbub of the refreshments tent began to simmer down. Faces too preoccupied with the tea and scones before were now poised with dollops of clotted cream hanging off their spoons. ‘And I cannot begin to imagine what on God’s earth she is doing at the village fete, but I’d place a thousand pounds on it having something to do with Lottie and her interfering ways!’
Something inside Rebecca stirred. The old, feisty Rebecca. ‘I don’t have to put up with this,’ she said, trying frantically to undo her apron.
‘Rebecca,’ James said, gently.
‘Oh, I see, like father, like son, is it?’ Jean asked. ‘Taking the adulterer’s side over your poor mother.’
‘Look,’ James rounded on his newly acquainted aunt, with an edge in his voice.
‘What on earth is going on?’ Jack suddenly appeared behind the three women, gently moving Audrey aside, so he could get to Pamela.
‘Can you believe it, Jack?!’ Pamela cried. ‘What on earth was Lottie thinking, inviting her to help today? Here, in our village!’
Rebecca could feel Jack looking at her, but she was too busy trying not to look like Houdini trying to grapple her way out of the apron.
‘Oh, hello Rebecca. Nice to see you with a few more clothes on, this time.’
‘Arrrgh!’ Rebecca cried. ‘Are you all happy now?’ She looked accusingly at James. He was as much to blame for this as anyone. ‘You’ve totally humiliated me, but I will just say this; there is no smoke without fire, Pamela, and I’m not the one still married and living with my lover. Grrrr!’ She threw the apron in James’ direction, navigated her way around the refreshments table and attempted to run past Pamela and her family.
‘Oh, no you don’t,’ Jean said, stepping in front of Rebecca.
Rebecca tried to dart past her, but she was so large, she blocked Rebecca in every direction.
‘Oi, stop that, Jean!’ James jumped over the trestle table and came to stand by Rebecca. ‘What’s she ever done to you?’
‘Upset my sister, for a start.’
Rebecca watched Pamela’s stony face soften for a moment.
‘That’s no reason to be intimidate her like this! I for one am, um—’ he stumbled over his words for a second as every set of eyes in the tent was fixed on him, ‘—fond of Rebecca, and…’
‘James!’ Pamela sounded incredulous.
‘What? You’ve cosied up with your daughter-in-law’s father, so why can’t I have feelings for one of my employees?’
A fleeting moment of calmness washed over Rebecca again. Not only did James see things from her point of view, he had feelings for her too. Feelings strong enough to tell his mum about, the woman she had betrayed.
‘James, I can’t believe you’ve even contemplated this, let alone told me about it!’ Pamela’s voice was now an octave higher.
‘Now, hang on a minute, Pam,’ Jack said, in a lowered voice, ‘we might—’
‘Yes, Pammie,’ Audrey interjected, ‘James has a point; we’ve all been conned by Edward in the past, you included. We can forgive the girl for taking leave of her senses where he’s concerned.’
Pamela’s eyes glistened like little opal jewels. She was visibly shaking. ‘I used to think of you as my daughter.’ Her voice was croaky. ‘How could you betray me like that?’
Rebecca bit her bottom lip and blinked furiously to stop herself from crying. Yes, how could she have behaved like that? She really didn’t know herself.
‘I bet she saw it as a leg up the career ladder. Or should that be leg-over?’ Jean said, chuckling to herself.
All eyes turned to Jean.
‘Oh, I’ve had enough of this,’ Rebecca said, finding the energy to barge her way past sturdy Jean, rushing out onto the playing field, not knowing where the hell she was headed through her blurry, tear-filled eyes.
‘Rebecca, wait!’ James called.
She didn’t stop. She didn’t care if she couldn’t find her car and had to walk back to Harrogate. She felt so humiliated. There was no way she could contemplate moving to Clunderton now.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Louise was swamped. Lottie had allocated her a stall to promote her cakes, next to the ice cream stand, but the demand for ice creams meant that there was no time to stop to chat to anyone interested in her special occasion cakes. Now she had a queue forming for both stalls but the shouting from the refreshments tent next door had become loud enough for Louise to down tools – or ice cream scoop, anyway – and investigate what all the hullabaloo was about. It didn’t surprise her to hear Pamela Hardwicke raising her voice, but she was taken aback by Jack and Audrey. As she entered the tent a slender, dark haired woman, probably a similar age to herself, brushed past her sobbing loudly. James was calling her name while an ensuing row was breaking out between the Hardwickes. Audrey and a woman, who Louise had never seen before, were all bickering whilst the queue for refreshments was becoming longer and longer. Louise turned around and started looking for Lottie, but her eye was drawn to the crying woman marching off in the direction of the nature reserve. She was clearly unhappy and for a second Louise was overcome with empathy for a woman she didn’t even know.
‘Mum, bit of help here, please?’ Cerys called, in only the way a sassy sixteen-year-old could.
Louise rolled her eyes. ‘It’s not that long a queue, Cerys; hold the fort while I go and find Lottie to referee next door. Megan, stop sunbathing and help your sister.’
Megan groaned and got up from the towel she was lying on in the sun.
‘I was revising,’ Megan groaned, getting to her feet.
&
nbsp; They had offered to help but, to be fair, they probably ought to both be back at home with their text books. She would just satisfy her curiosity over what the argument was about and then send them both home for more revision. Although, as she wandered along the rows of stalls to find Lottie, the resentful part of her suspected that the moment they turned up at the stores, Johnnie would find them some chore or other to do and distract them further from their revision. As she ventured away from the ice cream stand in search of Lottie, she noticed the crying girl in the distance, sitting on the banks of the nature reserve, just in view between the overgrown meadow flowers. A brief glance over her shoulder confirmed the girls were amiably working out a routine of serving and taking money from customers. Without thinking she found herself walking away from the fete and the drama and in the direction of the nature reserve. It really was none of her business, but something was making her really feel for the poor girl and Louise had this overcoming urge to check she was okay. As she approached, she realised the girl was really sobbing now. Thankfully, Louise still had her wallet apron on, which she used for collecting the takings, but also for storing paper napkins when handing over ice cream cones.
‘Here,’ she said, casting a shadow over the girl as she held out a napkin. ‘Looks like you could do with one.’
The girl looked up, her mascara all smudged. ‘Thank you,’ she said, giving a watery-eyed smile.
‘Mind if I sit down?’ she asked, crashing onto the grass, not giving the girl an opportunity to say no. ‘I’m Louise,’ she said, extending her hand. The girl shook it. She had a firm handshake, like a person who knew her own mind. Not the quivering, snotty mess, sitting in front of Louise.
‘Rebecca.’ The girl retracted her hand and blew her nose. ‘I guess you just saw that humiliating debacle in the refreshments tent.’
Louise shook her head as some of her blonde waves escaped from her ponytail. ‘Nope. I heard raised voices, went to see what was going on and saw you rushing past me in a blur with James calling after you.’
‘He’s my boss.’ Rebecca dabbed under her eyelids.