Heart in the Right Home

by Lisa Hill

  ‘I have money, Edward; Pamela doesn’t need yours. You could divorce, make Pam a director for her share in Hardwickes, leave the rest of your settlement to James and Drew, when the time comes. Only, that wouldn’t leave you with anywhere to go, would it? Much better to turn up here and upset the applecart. So, if you think that’s what’s best for you and Pamela, that’s fine. I’m done.’ He walked towards the back stairs.

  ‘Oh!’ Pamela sobbed. ‘Jack, don’t say that! We need to talk about this, please! It was just a suggestion; what will Reverend Eckersley think if we cancel the church now?’

  Jack stopped in the doorway to the back stairs and turned to look at her, his face twisted with anguish. ‘Pamela, that just about sums you up. I was foolish to ever think this could work. Edward’s welcome to you; perhaps his cancer is karma for the pair of you.’ With that, his feet could be heard thundering up the stairs.

  Now she was, angry. Really angry. ‘Arrgggh!’ she shrieked, throwing the passata spoon directly at Edward. He ducked under his newspaper as the spoon narrowly missed him, hitting the wall next to the boot room, before landing on the floor with a thud. ‘I am nobody’s! Do you hear!’ she screamed at Edward. ‘Not yours, not Jack’s, I am my own person! And I will have a divorce from you before you take your dying breath, Edward Hardwicke, you owe me that much!’ She stormed out of the kitchen and up the garden, finding she was heading for Mary’s grave of all places. She collapsed on the ground by her headstone. ‘Why can’t I be more like you?’ she whispered, as if Mary might magically reply. ‘You were always so calm, so eloquent. You must have some answers on how to win Jack back?’ Tears silently fell down her face as she thought of how much she had just hurt Jack with her stupid compassion for Edward. That made her human though, didn’t it?

  Not someone holding a grudge.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Lottie slammed her handbag down in the nearest chair, pulled her earrings out of her bra – bras were wonderful inventions in the absence of pockets – and swung her hair to one side as she attempted to hole the silver, heart-shaped stud.

  ‘Any plans for today?’ she asked her new lodger, who was perusing the newspaper and sipping on a mug of coffee. This was the second night Jack had been taking up Ant’s bed, whilst Ant slept on the put-up bed, and Edward had been occupying it for five before that. She knew they were lucky to have a spacious home, but it hardly seemed it with three adults, three children and Sky, who had settled back into her bed in Lottie’s kitchen as if she had never been away.

  Jack put the paper down and rubbed the edge of the table with his forefinger. ‘Truth is,’ he said, not making eye contact, ‘for the first time in my life, I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘Right.’ Lottie pulled out the nearest chair, sitting down and resigning herself to the fact she was going to be late for work. It was Saturday morning, Drew was on the cricket club run and both of them were working at HG1 because Toby, who was on rota for today, was on holiday. Jude had kindly offered to have the children this afternoon.

  How roles had reversed.

  ‘Don’t worry about me.’ Jack batted a dismissive hand. ‘You get yourself off to work.’

  Johnnie and Louise had returned from Italy last night, relieving Jack of his duties today. Lottie rather suspected this was the first day Jack had really thought about his actions, since packing up his stuff and leaving the Old Rectory in a huff on Thursday evening.

  ‘And what are you going to do?’

  Jack took a sip of his coffee and looked out of the kitchen window. ‘Nice day, going to get too hot to walk Sky in a bit. Reckon I’ll take her up Clun Woods and stop off and tend to your mother on the way back.’

  ‘You talk about her if she’s still here,’ Lottie said, absently. ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled.

  Jack sighed. ‘You’re right, I do. Perhaps that’s why I never got around to buying Pam a ring.’

  ‘Do you think—’ Lottie leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table, apprehensive about what she was about to ask, ‘—that that’s also why you’ve given up so easily on Pamela?’

  Jack leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hand over his chin. ‘You may have a point, but it’s got much more to do with Edward.’

  ‘You saw him off once before.’

  ‘Yes, but he wasn’t dying of cancer then, was he?’

  Lottie narrowed her eyes. ‘You don’t believe him, do you?’

  Jack did that thing of his, putting his nose in the air, like he was more righteous than anyone else. ‘I have my suspicions,’ he said, quietly.

  ‘Pretty sick thing to make up though, isn’t it?’

  ‘I didn’t say I don’t believe he’s had cancer.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m just saying it’s pretty convenient to say you’re dying of it when your wife is taking you to court for adultery and is likely to be looked on favourably in a financial settlement.’

  Lottie nodded. She had had her suspicions from the moment Edward had announced his news a week ago, but she was interested to know Jack’s honest opinion without divulging her thoughts, which might influence him.

  ‘Plus, I’m more worried I’m putting on you, staying here, and I can hardly kick Audrey out from next door; she feels like it’s her home now.’

  Lottie bit her lip from saying, yes, it is bloody awkward, because he was right; where would he go?

  ‘Anyway, you get off to work, girl; not going to earn any money sitting here listening to my woes.’ Jack stood up and placed his empty mug in the sink. ‘Got to catch Reverend Eckersley whilst he’s up at the church too.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Better cancel this wedding, hadn’t I?’

  Lottie gasped. ‘Oh, Dad, why?’

  ‘She’s never going to get a divorce in time now, is she?’ He sounded choked.

  Lottie strode across the kitchen and embraced her wonderful dad in a big hug. He squeezed her back, just like he did when he got home from work when she was a little girl.

  ‘You could buy a ring,’ she mumbled into his shoulder.

  ‘It would look too much like closing the stable door after the horse has bolted, now.’

  Lottie sighed. ‘It’ll sort itself out.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  A flicker of hope rose in Lottie. She would be in trouble, but Jack had just confirmed what she needed to know; he still loved Pamela. This called for intervention. Interfering, as Pamela would call it. Either way, Lottie needed to get Edward out from under the table at the Old Rectory.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Rebecca had left James in bed and gone out, ostensibly for eggs and bacon for breakfast, but more to explore the uneasy feeling of doubt, lurking in the depths of her stomach, every time he’d stayed over this week. Which was six nights. Every night since they’d first slept together, in fact. She wouldn’t want anyone to get her wrong; the sex was fantastic. And when they were in the moment it felt so right, but every morning she woke up with this worrying thought of whether she was doing the right thing. She thought sleeping with James would be the end of it, and Lord knows why discovering Edward was terminally ill would put her libido into overdrive. Perhaps that was really bothering her.

  Was she glad Edward was dying?

  She pushed the door to the stores open and the little bell jangled.

  ‘Good morning,’ the man behind the counter sang. He had hair tied back in a pony tail and an enviable, glowing tan.

  ‘Hello,’ Rebecca said, ‘you’re not Jack?’ He must be the owner, but she had forgotten his name. Although she could remember his wife’s.

  ‘Yes,’ the man extended his hand. ‘Johnnie, and you are?’

  ‘Rebecca,’ she said, shaking his hand. ‘I’ve just moved into one of the cottages on the other side of the pub.’

  ‘Ah, Betty’s old place.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. Are you Louise’s husband?’

  The man looked slightly caught off guard. ‘Yes, but how—’

  ‘I met her at the summer fet
e,’ Rebecca interrupted. ‘She came and rescued me from drowning myself in the nature reserve.’

  Johnnie laughed cautiously. ‘Did she? She didn’t say anything.’

  Just when Rebecca was starting to feel slightly uncomfortable with this conversation a door opened behind the counter and Louise came bursting through, just visible under a huge pile of laundered tablecloths. She dumped them on the counter with a heavy sigh pushing wisps of her bleached blonde, frizzy hair away from her face.

  Relaxed and chilled after a week’s holiday in Italy, she appeared anything but.

  She looked up. ‘Rebecca!’ Her face expanded into a huge grin.

  ‘Hello.’ Rebecca waved coyly.

  Before she knew it, Louise had circumnavigated the counter and was embracing Rebecca in full-on hug. ‘You made it then; you’ve moved to the village?’ Louise said, pulling away again.

  ‘Yes, finally!’

  ‘And what about you and James?’ she whispered.

  Rebecca put a thumb up. ‘Actually, I promised you a drink; why don’t we have one this evening and tell you all about it?’

  ‘Oh, I would love that!’

  ‘Darling, don’t forget I’ve got a week’s worth of accounts backlog to get through this evening,’ said Johnnie.

  ‘Well, I won’t be in your way to distract you then, will I? Shall I come and see your new cottage, Rebecca?’

  After working all week Rebecca was still surrounded by boxes. ‘Tell you what, shall we go to the pub?’

  ‘Oh! But I want to see your new abode.’

  Rebecca grimaced. ‘Truth is, it’s a total mess since the move. I promise you can come and have a look, once I’m sorted.’

  ‘Said like a true estate agent, wanting to show off the property at its best.’ Louise attempted a smile, but it seemed more like a grimace. ‘Pub it is then. About seven?’

  ‘Perfect. I’m just here to get some eggs and bacon, actually.’

  ‘Estate agent?’ Johnnie said it just like an accusation. ‘Yes, I work for Hardwickes.’

  ‘Oh, do you now?’

  ‘Johnnie, don’t start,’ Louise said, flatly.

  ‘So, what do you think about Edward’s sudden reappearance?’

  Rebecca felt her blood run cold. Had Louise told Johnnie she had once been Edward’s lover? That cringing feeling of shame came over her again, and in an instant she knew what her hesitancy over James was; she still felt guilt and embarrassment over the whole Edward debacle.

  The bell trilled again, and Lottie came storming in with an equally tempestuous expression on her face.

  ‘Lottie!’ Rebecca said, keen to avoid answering Johnnie’s question. ‘How are you?’

  ‘On a mission,’ she said, her eyes scanning down the rear of the stores, towards the tearooms. ‘Audrey here?’ she asked Louise, abruptly.

  ‘I did try and put her off coming in today when she’s been working all week, but she wouldn’t hear of it. So, yes, she’s down in the tearooms serving.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Lottie said, sweeping off, her hair long, wavy blonde hair flying behind her like a superhero cape.

  ‘I wonder what that’s about?’ Johnnie asked, watching Lottie disappear.

  ‘You are no better than the rest of the village, Johnnie; such a gossip.’ Louise chided him, but it sounded more accusatory than a jovial observation.

  ‘I bet it’s got something to do with Edward. Do you know anything about how permission, or hopefully refusal, of the development is going?’ Johnnie asked Rebecca.

  ‘I—’

  ‘Don’t answer that,’ Louise interjected. ‘It’s not your place to tell him if you know anything, Rebecca. He’s just being nosey, and he’s meant to have given up getting involved.’

  ‘I’m just concerned how things have progressed in our absence darling, especially with Edward’s return.’

  ‘Don’t darling me; you’re just prying into something which isn’t any of your business!’

  ‘It is very much our business!’ Johnnie spluttered.

  Rebecca may be new to her relationship with James, but she recognised a marital domestic brewing when she saw one.

  ‘I’ll just get those eggs and bacon,’ she said, not actually heard over the ensuing row between Johnnie and Louise.

  ***

  For some reason, Jack’s walk around Clun woods hadn’t taken him the way he’d expected. He’d walked and walked, until he’d ended up crossing the York road, ambling through woodland to the rear of Clunderton Hall and found himself in the open fields adjacent to the hall, at the back of Rosefields; the proposed development land. He suspected his reluctance to loop through the woods and return via Clundyke Farm, and back down Church Lane, was because although he had told Lottie with some defiance that he was going to see Reverend Eckersley and cancel the wedding, his heart wasn’t in it. What his heart ached for was a cuddle with Pamela. To hold her in his arms, rest his chin on the top of her head and tell her everything was going to be okay. The reality was that it wasn’t, though. He knew he’d been a stubborn old bugger and flown off the handle, but she hadn’t been in touch since his dramatic exit from the Old Rectory, taking as many clothes as he could find carrier bags to put them in, Sky obediently trotting along behind him back up the garden path. He also knew why she hadn’t been in touch; she had started a grieving process. It didn’t matter if she didn’t love Edward anymore; she had spent the majority of her life with him. There was grieving to be done, even though he wasn’t dead yet and on top of that, she had the tumultuous task of preparing to care for him, once his condition deteriorated. Part of him wanted to be there to support her, but the other part knew he needed to stay away. She needed time, an opportunity to properly end what was left of her relationship with Edward. Jack could wait. Hopefully, once this was all over and the inevitable had happened, Pamela may rekindle her feelings for Jack. Who knew?

  He’d been so engrossed in his own thoughts, stomping across the tumps of dried grass, he hadn’t taken much notice of where he was going or where Sky was. He looked up to see her chasing after a rabbit across the field towards the Harrogate Road and whistled to call her back. Obedient as ever, she stopped in her tracks and sped back in his direction. He rustled in his trouser pocket for a titbit to reward her, and as he watched her race across the horizon, he noticed two figures in the corner of the field, by the gate. He narrowed his eyes. One of those outlines looked very familiar, as did his car.

  Dupht. So engrossed in the other occupants of the field, Jack hadn’t noticed Sky come to heel at his feet. ‘Sorry, old girl,’ he said, clipping her lead to her collar. ‘Didn’t see you waiting there patiently. Here you are,’ he said, feeding her a treat without looking down. His gaze was still fixed on the two figures, holding a large piece of paper and flailing their arms out in all directions. Anger surged through him and he couldn’t stop his feet from marching off in the direction of the two men. He knew exactly what Lottie would say; oh, it’s not okay for me to interfere, but fine for you to go putting your great big size tens into any situation you deem warrants your attention! But he just couldn’t seem to stop stomping one foot in front of the other.

  ‘Morning,’ he called nonchalantly, and nodded his head as he sailed past Edward and his acquaintance.

  Edward turned with a condescending sneer on his face to see who had deigned to interrupt this evidently important conversation.

  ‘Oh, it’s you,’ he said, not holding back on his tone of utter contempt for Jack.

  ‘Aye, it’s me.’

  ‘Enjoying Ant’s bedroom?’ Edward threw back his head and laughed.

  Jack didn’t say anything, just hovered as Sky conveniently caught a sniff of something she most definitely needed to wee all over.

  Shame it wasn’t Edward’s foot.

  ‘Surprised to see you out and about, Edward,’ Jack said, concentrating on Sky, not looking in Edward’s direction.

  ‘Work is work Jack; happens on Saturday mornings in the property world,
as well you know.’

  Jack looked up to see Edward fixing him straight in the eye. The man standing next to him was probably a bit older than James and Drew, mid-to-late-forties, perhaps. He was looking rather perplexed at this evidently bitter exchange of words.

  Jack was just mulling over Edward’s choice of words – no mention of the ‘C’ word in front of this stranger – when a much larger thought hit him like a lightning bolt.

  ‘Work?’ The word came out before he had time to bite his tongue. They were standing in the field to the rear of Rosefields; the proposed development site.

  ‘Yes, work, Jack; a strange concept to the retired, I know.’

  The man let out a nervous laugh.

  ‘This your architect then, is it?’

  ‘Yes, hello.’ The man jumped in, taking a step forward, still holding the huge piece of paper he had in his hand, extending his other hand to Jack. ‘Tristan Forbes.’

  Jack shook the man’s hand and smiled. ‘Jack Sellwood,’ he said, keen to extrapolate as much information from Tristan before Edward closed ranks. ‘Drawings?’ Jack said enthusiastically, nodding to what he could now see now was a detailed plan of what the site would look like. ‘Things must have moved on apace. What excellent news, Edward.’ Jack smiled between the pair of men, keen to sound as though he totally advocated Edward’s plans to develop the land.

  ‘Yes, Edward gave me a call yesterday afternoon to say—’

  ‘Ahem, Tristan,’ Edward intervened.

  Jack grinned. ‘So, planning’s been granted, has it?’

  Edward tutted. ‘I’m not at liberty to say, Jack. This is just a preliminary visit with Tristan, in the hope that we are nearing sign-off.’

  Jack narrowed his eyes. ‘Bollocks.’ Out of the corner of his eye, Jack could see Tristan look quite startled at this change in Jack’s demeanour. ‘You’ve been given sign-off but it’s just not official yet. So, here you are, feet back under the table, preparing for the day you can reel the diggers in.’

  ‘You can think what you like, Jack, but—’