by Lisa Hill
Jack stared at his daughter and shook his head. He frowned. ‘Says he’s got cancer?’
Lottie nodded. ‘Prostate, apparently. Had an operation but it’s spread to his bones.’
Jack frowned. ‘That means it’s terminal, doesn’t it?’
Lottie nodded gravely. ‘He says he’s got six to twelve months to live.’
‘You don’t sound very convinced, Lottie,’ Audrey said, arms folded, head cocked to one size.
‘I’ve yet to see any evidence of any medication.’ She bit her lip as if she was deciding whether to say what she really thought.
‘Go on,’ Jack said.
‘Well,’ she sighed, ‘it’s all very convenient, don’t you think?’
‘Lottie, this is cancer we’re talking about. Even Edward wouldn’t stoop so low as to lie about that. Would he?’ Jack was in shock; he couldn’t really think straight. All he could think about was how Pamela was going to take this news.
And how stupid he’d been not to get a ring on her finger yet.
Lottie raised a questionable eyebrow. ‘Wouldn’t he?’
Audrey turned to look at Jack. ‘She makes a fair point; the man has no morals. All he’ll be thinking about is his money in their divorce.’
Jack nodded and found himself looking at the floor for inspiration. Eventually he looked up. ‘Who’s going to tell Pamela?’
‘Let him,’ Lottie said, without a moment’s hesitation.
Jack shook his head. ‘I can’t do that; it’s going to be a big shock.’ His mind was racing forward now. Would she want to cancel the wedding? Of course, Edward could refuse a divorce on the grounds he wasn’t going to be around much longer and then they couldn’t marry anyway. She may say she hated the man, but Jack knew Pamela well enough to know she would still be devastated.
Why didn’t I just buy a bloody ring?!
‘It’s better it comes from him.’
‘You think?’
‘Lottie’s right, I think, Jack.’ said Audrey. ‘You’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t on this one.’
Jack wanted to shout out loud to request everyone stop talking in riddles. Instead he merely took a deep breath. ‘How?’
‘Well,’ Audrey continued, ‘if you tell her, you’ll be in trouble for knowing before she did and, if you leave it up to Edward to tell her, for leaving her to face the music on her own.’ Jack tutted. ‘You’re right. Where is he now?’
‘He left early,’ said Lottie. ‘Said he had some business to deal with in Harrogate.’
All three looked at each other. ‘Rebecca,’ they chorused.
***
Rebecca took a deep breath and with her hand trembling, turned the handle to James’ office, Drew’s old office, currently occupied by Hardwicke Senior.
‘Rebecca, darling,’ he said, detaching himself from his MacBook and standing up. He walked around the desk to embrace her.
She took a step back. ‘Don’t darling me,’ she said, her voice wobbly and raspy. She needed to get a grip.
Edward lowered his arms. He looked as suave as ever in his well-cut Savile Row suit but whatever charming spell he had cast over her in the past, it wouldn’t work anymore. As she evaluated his smile, she noticed how wrinkly his face was and wondered what had made her take leave of her senses and get involved with a man old enough to be her father in the first place. Power? Money? The fact he had massively flattered her professional abilities? Who knew; all Rebecca felt was she’d behaved incredibly stupidly.
‘It’s like that then, is it?’
Rebecca pushed her long, raven black hair away from her face and bit her tongue. She knew he would goad her into an argument, so he could eloquently explain why he had disappeared and make it all sound so terribly reasonable. There seemed little point in going there.
She looked him defiantly in the eye, hoping her eyes shone bright and assertively. ‘Why are you here, Edward?’
He sat back down in his chair, extending his arm to suggest she did likewise. ‘Don’t you want to know why I left so abruptly in the first place?’
‘No,’ she said, still standing, refusing to be instructed by this man who had persuaded her to make such a poor life choice.
He tutted and crossed his legs. ‘I could ask why are you still working here? You clearly hate me; why haven’t you gone to work for the competition, instead of staying, knowing this situation would one day rear its ugly head.’
‘Arrrgh!’ Rebecca admitted defeat and slunk into one of the chairs opposite his desk. Something she’d questioned herself on so many times before and still pondered over the answer. ‘Well, if you think it was because I hoped you’d come back, you couldn’t be further from the truth. And yes, I did hate you, at first, but then—’
‘James turned up and you settled for second best?’
‘How dare you!’ It took all her strength to stop herself reaching across the desk and slapping him across the face. A faint smirk flickered at the corner of his lips and she realised he was goading her, and she was retaliating.
She mustn’t let him win.
‘As I was saying,’ she said, shifting in her chair to sit upright, trying to look defiant, ‘I did hate you, but I had bills to pay and a good job here, which pays well, so why did I have to be the loser? Believe me, there’s been many times I’ve wanted to hand in my notice and go, but Lottie made me realise that I wasn’t the only one to blame; you were at much at fault as I was.’ Edward nodded and looked into the middle distance. ‘Bloody Lottie; always right about everything.’
‘I’ll tell her you said that.’
Edward threw his head back and laughed. ‘Please don’t; I’ll never hear the end of it.’
‘Sometimes I think you two are more alike than you care to admit, and that’s why you don’t get on.’
‘How so?’
‘You’re both extremely competitive.’
Edward nodded. ‘I guess so, only Lottie’s heart’s very much in the right place with everything she does, whereas mine is more akin to how much profit I’m going to make.’
Rebecca stared at the carpet, not knowing what to say to that.
‘I’m sorry, Rebecca.’
She cleared her throat and tried to bat away the stinging feeling of being close to tears. ‘What for?’
‘For using you. You’re not the first and I doubt you’ll be the last. It was flattering to be flirtatious with someone so young and attractive as you, but I should have known better than to allow things to go as far as they did.’
‘Why did you then?’ Her voice sounded strained as she continued to focus on the pattern of the navy and cream carpet.
‘Boredom, I guess. I didn’t want to come back to Yorkshire, Pam did.’
It struck right to the core. Boredom. She really had just been his play thing.
‘I thought I loved you,’ she whispered.
Edward leaned back in his chair. She looked up to see his lips pursed, his face crumpled. Something resembling a smile, a genuine one. He looked almost heartbroken.
‘And, do you know, I think for the first time in a long time, I was in love with you.’
She stared at him in complete shock.
‘What we did was wrong,’ she whispered.
He nodded. ‘But I think, if two people are in love, that sort of makes it okay, doesn’t it?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t know. I feel terrible for how I treated Pamela.’
‘Well, she was off gallivanting with Jack all that time, so I wouldn’t let it bother your conscious too much.’ There was an air of jealousy in his voice.
‘I think Jack is a gentleman.’
Edward nodded. ‘Aye, but a canny old bastard too. As is my son, who I understand is acting equally as honourably with you now.’
Rebecca eyed Edward suspiciously. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Had James confessed to his father that they hadn’t taken things as far as the bedroom?
‘Just that you deserve better than me. I
may not have been the greatest example of a decent man to my sons, but they have made a good job of becoming honest men.’
Rebecca nodded vigorously. ‘Yes, they both are.’
‘So, have my blessing—’
‘I don’t need your blessing,’ Rebecca snapped.
‘—please, do. I’m afraid I’ve had some bad news.’
Rebecca eyed him warily. In the past, before their affair, they had always got on famously well. He told her things he didn’t tell James or Drew about the business. She suddenly felt apprehensive.
‘What sort of bad news?’ Perhaps the business was in trouble?
‘Earlier this year I was treated for prostate cancer.’
She could feel the colour draining from her face. ‘Oh?’
‘Yes, unfortunately, it didn’t go as successfully as the doctors hoped. It’s spread to my bones. I’m not going to carry on much longer, I’m afraid.’
The muscles in her face were taking on a jig of their own. Part of her wanted to laugh, the other wanted her face to crumple and cry.
‘Oh, Edward, I’m so sorry,’ she said, reaching across the table and taking his hand. She wasn’t sure what she was sorry for though. Edward’s untimely demise or her own selfish pity that her relationship with James would have to come to an abrupt hold now, end even.
James would need to concentrate on Edward, not her.
Chapter Forty-One
Pamela had spent most of the morning cleaning the house. Okay, so it was mainly an art of procrastination, to put off the time until she must go and help Jack in the stores, but the house wasn’t going to clean itself, was it? And the Old Rectory was a very big house. Having eked the task out as long as was physically possible, she’d showered, dressed and lazily made herself a brunch of coffee and buttered crumpets before slipping on her loafers to wend her way down to the stores. By the time she got there it would be nearly midday. Feeling guilty, for Jack had left at six-thirty this morning, she would suggest manning the shop while he took a leisurely lunch. To be fair, he had told her to take her time this morning, but he would need a rest; the stores didn’t close until seven this evening. Running her tongue across her teeth, she realised she just needed to pop upstairs and clean them before departing when the boot room door opened and shut.
‘James, is that you, darling?’ she called, closing up the dishwasher.
Silence.
She suddenly felt apprehensive. Jack was always telling her to keep the doors locked; you can’t be too careful living rurally, there’s lots of burglars around who’d happily loot this place. She looked around her for the nearest thing she could hurl if necessary and picked up the fish slice from the drainer which she’d used when cooking James some sausage rolls for his supper last night.
The boot room door slowly opened. She raised the fish slice a little higher, ready to lob it and run out of the conservatory door.
‘Oh my God, you gave me a fright!’ she said, throwing her utensil weapon into the sink, her heart hammering nineteen-to-the-dozen.
‘I know we didn’t part on the greatest of terms, Pam,’ Edward grinned, ‘but I didn’t think you’d go as far as attacking me; you bring new meaning to the term “fish wife”.’
She felt like she bloody well could attack him.
‘What are you doing here?’ What was he doing here? Pamela was trying hard to control her breathing whilst deciphering how she felt about this unwelcome intruder.
‘Lots of reasons; the most important being you.’
Oh, here we go. Masterful charmer that he was, ready to make this all about her. She wasn’t having any of it.
‘Don’t flatter me, Edward, it makes a fool of you and me. I guess you’re here about the development; nice of James to warn me.’
‘James didn’t know I was coming.’
‘Didn’t, not doesn’t?’ So, he’d seen James then.
‘No, no-one knew I was coming. I arrived on Saturday; Drew’s put me up.’
‘What?’ Her blood ran cold. He’d been here all weekend, and no-one had thought to enlighten her. A shiver ran down her spine; Jack knew. That’s why he’d suggested that long day out yesterday, crafty swine.
Edward grinned. ‘You can imagine how delighted Lottie is.’
‘Why are you here, then?’ she asked, cutting to the chase. Apparently, the entire family had found out of Edward’s arrival before her; it felt ever so like last year when everyone had found out where her mother was before her; always the last to know.
He took a step forward and smoothed his tie down. He sort of hesitated before speaking, as if he was going to say something but changed his mind. ‘Any chance of a coffee?’
Pamela jutted her bottom jaw out. The cheek of the man. But seeing it was still his house – or half of it was anyway – she couldn’t really begrudge him a cup of coffee. She inserted a pod into the coffee machine and placed a mug underneath.
‘Okay if I sit down?’ he asked, beckoning to the stools around the kitchen island.
She shrugged. ‘It’s still your house.’
‘Not my home, though,’ he said, pulling out a stool. ‘I hear Jack’s moved in.’
As the coffee machine whirred away, Pamela focused on the black liquid trickling out. She was overcome with a feeling of not wanting to talk about Jack, not to Edward anyway. It was finite for her; Edward had left and then her relationship with Jack had developed. She didn’t want her feelings for Edward clouding her ones for Jack. The machine stopped, and she pulled the mug out, reaching into the fridge to add milk and a spoonful of sugar from the pot on the side.
‘There you go,’ she said, handing it to him, pulling herself up onto a stool.
‘Mugs? Goodness, you have changed; used to only ever be cups and saucers. You remembered how I have it though,’ he said, taking the mug.
‘People are allowed to change, and after forty years of marriage I wasn’t likely to forget, was I?’ she snapped.
‘You’re still angry with me, aren’t you? Over Rebecca.’
Pamela went to speak and then stopped herself. Was she angry? She felt it, but she wasn’t sure what she was angry about. ‘Rebecca and I have resolved our differences.’
Edward raised his eyebrows. ‘Have you?’
‘Yes; you used her, Edward, she always looked up to you.’
Edward nodded. ‘I know.’
‘And she’s happy with James now, so you leave her alone.’
He nodded again. ‘So I hear. Quite surprising, don’t you think?’
‘Not really; they’ve always made a striking couple, but I wonder if working together always put them off getting involved in the past. Anyway, are you going to tell me why you’re here? Is it because of the,’ she hesitated to say the word, ‘divorce?’ Saying it made those jittery feelings reappear, the ones she had felt when she thought Edward was an intruder.
Edward blew on his steaming coffee, before taking a sip, eyeing her over the rim of the mug. ‘Lots of reasons, really. Does seem a bit silly to spend lots of money on solicitors if we can talk it over ourselves.’
Pamela hated to concede it, but this was true. Since they had separated her income had been significantly reduced. Luckily, she had shares and savings in her name, but she had never become a director of Hardwickes, so she wasn’t at liberty to draw dividends from the company. Jack had been paying for all the bills and groceries and her savings were quickly being eaten up in legal fees.
‘You know, if you’d asked, I’d have given you an income from the business,’ Edward said, as if reading her mind.
‘I only want what I’m entitled to, thank you,’ she snapped.
He shrugged and took another sip of his coffee. ‘Suit yourself.’
‘Why are you being so…’ she struggled to search for the word she was looking for, ‘…reasonable?’
He chuckled. ‘What are you saying? Not my style?’
For a second, she caught a glimpse of the man she had fell in love with all those years ago; a d
ashing, untroubled face, when he was young and full of ambition.
‘I’m not saying that.’ She was, but she wasn’t going to admit that to him. ‘I’m just observing that normally you’d have your solicitor on this situation like a dog with a bone, determined to get every penny you can.’
He turned his mug around in his hands, as if searching for answers within the murky depths of the coffee. ‘Did it ever occur to you that love might have something to do with it?’
‘Oh.’ Pamela let out a hollow laugh. ‘Playing a different hand of cards, are we? If you think for one moment I’m going to be convinced that you still love me, and we can negotiate this amicably, you—’
‘I’m dying, Pam.’
It was as if someone had sucked the air out of her lungs. ‘What?’
‘I had prostate cancer; it’s metastasised into my bones. They’re giving me radiotherapy but it’s only a matter of time.’
Silence filled the kitchen with its high Georgian ceiling. It was as if she could feel every single molecule and atom buzzing about, bouncing into each other, busily taking in the news with her. It was momentous. ‘Edward, you’re—’
‘I’m not lying, Pam.’ He let out a shallow laugh. ‘Not this time, anyway.’
‘How long have you known?’ she croaked.
He took a deep breath. ‘I was diagnosed not long after I left Yorkshire last year. They took away what they could and hoped radiotherapy would sort the rest. It’s shrunk the cancer in my pelvis and hip, but they can’t eradicate it, so although they’re happy to carry on with drugs and radiotherapy, there will come a time when the cancer will take charge.’
He looked up at her like a lost, little boy, wanting his mother.
‘How long?’ she whispered.
‘About a year, hopefully a bit longer.’
She let out a tiny sob. ‘Oh. How long has James known?’
He laughed. ‘Christ, Pam, what is this, the Spanish Inquisition?’
‘Sorry,’ she looked down at her mug, her cheeks flaming with shame. What she should have said was I’m terribly sorry, Edward, but for some reason those words weren’t forthcoming.