Heart in the Right Home

by Lisa Hill

  ‘I don’t think; I know.’ And with that, Jack turned on his heel, without a goodbye nor backward glance.

  Jack knew one day he would pay for interfering in Edward’s indiscretions with Rebecca. Today was that day. Edward wasn’t just back; he was living in the Old Rectory. He hadn’t just stolen Jack’s dignity, he had stolen his life too. He was meant to walk this way today, he was sure. Because he knew exactly what he needed to do now. There was no point continuing the fight; Edward had fought back and, terminal illness or not, was here to stay for the foreseeable future.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  ‘I was thinking,’ James said hesitantly, unsure of whether he was about to push Rebecca away again, ‘on whether we should reconsider our living arrangements.’

  Rebecca looked up from the Saturday paper she was reading. ‘Pardon?’

  ‘You and I,’ he said, picking up their empty plates from the little round kitchen table situated under the skylight in Rebecca’s kitchen, to take to the dishwasher. He couldn’t do this face-to-face, what if she was to say no?

  Rebecca put down her paper. ‘I still don’t know what you mean. I’ve only been living here a week.’

  ‘I just thought,’ he said, pulling down the dishwasher door, ‘that maybe, I could move in here? We’d agreed that I will eventually, and it’s like living in a monastery with all the silence between Mum and Dad at home.’ He continued to stack the plates, very slowly. Pulling the dishwasher door back up, he leant against the kitchen side and risked a glance in Rebecca’s direction. She was leaning over the breakfast table, arms folded, with her perfect little nose wrinkling as she surveyed him.

  ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, not at the moment.’ She picked up her coffee cup and took a sip, averting her gaze from him as if wanting to soften the blow.

  James rested his hands on the surface and pushed back, feeling utterly awkward. For a couple so in tune in bed, they were proving less so in other aspects of their relationship, like being honest about how they felt. Well, one of them was anyway; he was trying his hardest.

  ‘May I ask why?’ He tried to keep the strain out his voice. Neither of them was getting any younger. He knew how desperate she was to have a family and if he was going to make babies with anyone, it was going to be Rebecca.

  She looked up at him again and pressed her lips together. After what seemed like eternity, she finally spoke. ‘It’s still early days. Plus, your dad’s thrown in a massive curveball, with his—’ she hesitated, and he knew she was struggling to say the ‘C’ word, ‘—condition.’

  James shrugged. ‘All the more reason to move in here and avoid it.’ He grinned, but it soon faded as he saw the expression on her face.

  ‘It’s serious, James; he’s dying. Your mum is going to need your support, physically and emotionally. I think you staying a few nights a week is a perfect balance until,’ she shrugged, ‘you know.’

  Christ! Why was she always right?!

  ‘Okay,’ he said, feeling wounded.

  She got up from her chair, wearing nothing but the Liberty print dressing gown he just couldn’t resist peeling off her on Monday night, and walked towards him. Without speaking, she snaked her arms around him and kissed him firmly on the lips. Her mouth tasted of coffee and he suddenly had a yearning to drag her back to bed. God, he was so in love with this woman. Was it wrong to want to rush onto the next stage; marriage, kids?

  She pulled away. ‘Nothing’s changed,’ she said. ‘I just think you need to figure out your priorities.’

  ‘Pah! If only Mum would do the same; she’s mad letting Jack go.’

  Rebecca frowned. ‘Letting him go?’

  ‘Yes, he’s gone, didn’t I tell you?’

  Rebecca shook her head. ‘No? Gone where?’

  ‘Back to Lottie and Drew’s. Dad’s firmly got his feet under the table. Mum’s back to her dormouse routine, scurrying around after him.’

  ‘You are kidding me; why didn’t you tell me this?’

  ‘Sorry, I’ve had more pressing thoughts on my mind.’ He kissed her again, long and lingering.

  She broke away. ‘I knew Edward was back at the Old Rectory, but I assumed Jack was just tolerating the situation. Poor Jack,’ she said absently, looking into the middle distance.

  ‘Poor me, more like; forty-one and still living with my parents.’

  She playfully walloped him on the arm. ‘Pity poor Jack then; late sixties and living with his daughter and son-in-law.’

  ‘What is it with Jack? I’ve heard Drew mention that Tom tried to embody Jack to woo Jude.’

  ‘Sounds like actors speak to me.’ Rebecca laughed. ‘But Jack is a proper, old-fashioned gentleman and I really feel he had my dignity at the forefront of his mind, as well as Pamela’s, when—’ she trailed off. It was like she’d had a lightbulb moment and a thought had triggered off several others in her mind.

  ‘What?’ he asked.

  She shook her head and smiled. ‘Nothing. He’s just a nice man and he doesn’t deserve to be treated like this. No offence, but this is your dad’s doing; dying or not, he knows how to cause trouble.’

  ‘Why do people always say no offence just before they actually cause offence?’ James said, trying his best to act offended.

  Rebecca whacked him on the arm again. ‘Oh, will you stop it!’

  They both dissolved into giggles.

  ‘Now, you’d better take the massive pile of clothes building up in the corner of my bedroom home to launder, and I must get on and have a shower.’

  ‘Oh.’ James couldn’t hide the disappointment from his voice. ‘Aren’t we spending the day together?’ It was rare they both had a Saturday off.

  ‘I need to pop into the office and catch up on a few valuation letters, sorry,’ she said, kissing him on the cheek.

  ‘Okay, well, supper tonight?’

  ‘Sorry, I said I’d meet Louise for a drink in the pub.’ ‘Louise?’

  ‘From the stores. I don’t think she’s very happy at the moment.’

  ‘She’s not the only one; when am I going to see you next then?’

  Rebecca smiled. ‘Tomorrow?’

  ‘Okay,’ he said, voice full of disappointment.

  ‘James, you’ve stayed here every night since Monday! Go home and spend some time with your dad; you’ll regret it when he’s no longer here.’

  ‘I know,’ James said, trying not to feel wounded. He just longed to be with Rebecca. He knew what she said made sense, but he just wished he could make her realise that they’d wasted so much time; they really didn’t need to spend any more time apart.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Jack stormed down the High Street with Sky obediently trotting beside him on her lead, almost as if she sensed his bad mood. It was worse than bad, it was diabolical, but that man! Always out to cause trouble. Jack was pretty sure that Edward was no more dying than he was, but to try and actually prove it would just sound like sour grapes over Pamela.

  ‘Morning Jack,’ James sang, stepping out of Rebecca’s cottage, shutting the front door behind him.

  ‘It is,’ Jack said, continuing to charge towards James. He had every intention of marching past. He needed to tell Johnnie what he knew, before carrying on to find Reverend Eckersley.

  ‘You okay?’ James asked, blipping his car unlocked.

  ‘I’ve had better days. Actually,’ Jack said, coming to an abrupt halt by James and his car, ‘it’s probably advantageous I bumped into you; what do you know about planning being granted on the development?’

  James, carrying a large blue, Ikea bag over-stuffed with shirts and other items of clothing, surveyed Jack through narrowed eyes. Jack stared back, keen to appraise whether James was a good a liar as his father.

  ‘Not as much as you evidently know,’ James replied.

  ‘Pah!’ Jack laughed. ‘As cagey, as your father. Excuse me,’ he said, trying to navigate Sky past James’ overflowing laundry bag, along the narrow path.

 
‘Hang on,’ said James.

  Against Jack’s better judgement, he stopped. He wanted to believe James was different to Edward, like Drew was.

  ‘What?’ Jack said gruffly, stroking Sky’s head.

  ‘I think you possibly know more than me. What have you just witnessed?’

  Jack cocked his head to one side. ‘What makes you think I’ve seen anything?’

  ‘Because you’ve come whooshing up the High Street like a thunderstorm, from the direction of Dad’s land.’

  Jack cleared his throat. ‘Guilty as charged.’

  James opened his car and dumped the bag of washing inside.

  ‘Glad to see Rebecca’s not waiting on you hand, foot and finger.’ Jack nodded to the bag of laundry.

  James rolled his eyes and leaned against his 4x4. ‘Nope, she’s being a thoroughly modern Millie and wants us to keep separate abodes for the moment.’

  Jack could sense the disappointment in the lad’s voice and dropped his guard. ‘Perhaps she just needs a little time to settle into village life,’ Jack said, softly.

  James nodded. ‘I just don’t see the point of wasting anytime. I’m over forty, she’s hurtling towards it; if we want kids, we need to hurry up.’

  This conversation had taken a turn he wasn’t expecting. ‘Aye, just how I felt about your mother.’

  James’ head lifted up. ‘Felt?’

  Jack grimaced. ‘Feel. Not too good with feelings, me. I always feel actions speak louder.’

  ‘Is that why you’ve left?’

  Jack nodded. ‘I fought him for her once, I won’t do it again. She shouldn’t have invited him to stay without consulting me first. I know the Old Rectory is technically their house, but we had made it our home. For the time being anyway.’

  It was James’ turn to nod. ‘I can understand that. She’s mad though; she won’t find a more decent gentleman than you. Actually—’ James folded his arms and a grin spread across his face ‘—I’m not the only person who says that; Rebecca’s given me a lecture this morning about what a gentleman you are, and Drew told me Tom tried to emulate some of your qualities to make him more attractive to Jude.’

  Jack threw his head back and laughed. As he looked up at the bright blue, summer’s sky, a tear escaped from his eye. He wiped it away with a shaky hand, unsure whether it was a tear of laughter or one of sorrow. ‘There’s nothing special about me; just been brought up with good Christian morals and respect for others.’

  ‘I thought it might be that simple. In theory anyway,’ he hurried on, ‘not necessarily in practise.’

  ‘You’ve been raised by someone with very few manners nor morals.’

  James laughed. ‘I really don’t know if Dad’s been granted planning permission, Jack. If he has, he certainly hasn’t told me.’

  Jack appraised James through fresh eyes. He was wrong to judge him just because of who his father was. He wouldn’t be asking for advice on how to cement his relationship with Rebecca if he didn’t respect him, and it was good to know that Rebecca held no grudge for his part in breaking up her relationship with Edward last year.

  Edward Hardwicke really had a lot to answer for.

  Jack pressed his lips together and thought hard about whether he should say what was on the tip of his tongue.

  Sod it. ‘I think I might know a way for you to make your actions speak louder than words with Rebecca.’

  James, who had been studying the pavement looked up hopefully. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes. I dare say it’s going to upset your mother, but we’ll deal with the fallout of that afterwards. C’mon, follow me.’

  ‘Can I drive you?’ James called.

  ‘No need,’ Jack said, calling over his shoulder as he set off with Sky. ‘It’s not far.’

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Rebecca had finished all her bits and bobs in the office and taken a leisurely stroll around the department stores and boutiques of Harrogate, even stopping for a coffee and to read a magazine, which was unusual for her. Now, as she drove back to Clunderton on this baking Saturday afternoon, she had time to contemplate that the entire time she’d been shopping she hadn’t worried once about the James-Edward issue which had preoccupied her thoughts for so long. Perhaps it was the reassurance that – even though she’d said no – James wanted to move in with her; he wanted things to move forward. It was weird because she was ready for that; she wasn’t getting any younger, she could almost hear her biological clock ticking away and yet she had instinctively slowed things down. Edward’s cancer was on her mind, she was sure that was why she’d declined James’ suggestion of moving in together, but even that wasn’t playing on her mind this afternoon. Someone much more surprising was occupying her thoughts. It was silly really, she thought, putting her foot down to push her little Mercedes up the hill into the village, but when James had mentioned Jack had moved out of the Old Rectory, she felt incredibly sad.

  Rebecca dropped the car into fourth as she reached the brim of the hill and passed by Clunderton Primary School. The turning for Vicarage Lane was coming up on her right. Usually she would sail past and hit the top of the High Street, pulling up on the left outside her cottage. She bit her lip. Could she?

  ‘Stuff it,’ she said, flicking her indicator, braking hard and swinging the car into Vicarage Lane. Jack Sellwood might scare Rebecca a bit – for she worried he still judged her over the whole Edward debacle – but she still had massive respect for him. She would never admit it to Lottie but the Sellwoods were obviously good people, they knew when to do the right thing. That sort of praise would inevitably go to Lottie’s head, even if she had been right in encouraging James’ feelings towards Rebecca. She pulled in to the long driveway, gingerly navigating the car at less than five miles per hour up towards the house. Being the original residence of the vicar in times gone past, the driveway was like a horseshoe; there was no turning back. If Edward’s car was there, she was just going to have to sail on down the other side of the drive. As luck would have it only Pamela’s dinky 4x4 was parked up, so Rebecca pulled hers along beside it.

  It was only when she switched the engine off that she realised she didn’t have a clue what she was going to say.

  ‘Coooeee!’ Pamela’s voice called from the stables. ‘Rebecca, is that you?’

  Rebecca looked in her rear-view mirror to see Pamela in a sleeveless cotton shirt and white Capri pants waving from the stables.

  No going back now.

  ‘Hi!’ Rebecca called, a little over enthusiastically as she stepped out of the car.

  ‘What a lovely surprise,’ Pamela said, wandering across the courtyard with a ready meal packet in her hand.

  Rebecca analysed Pamela’s words. Was it really a lovely surprise to see the woman that had managed to break up her marriage? Perhaps this meant Pamela was happy Jack had left and Edward had returned after all?

  ‘Are you here to see James?’ Pamela asked. ‘He’s not here. Actually, I’m not sure where he is; I thought he was with you, he hasn’t been home since God knows when, it’s like he’s practically moved in with you!’

  Rebecca looked at her watch and frowned. ‘He was meant to bring his washing back here about four hours ago. Anyway, I’m not here to see James, I’m here to see you, actually.’

  Pamela’s smiled dropped. ‘Oh? Is it about Edward?’

  Rebecca pressed her lips together and attempted a sympathetic smile. ‘More about Jack.’

  ‘Oh.’ Pamela’s face crumpled and the next moment she was sobbing, still holding on to the packet of what looked like luxury, frozen fish pie.

  Rebecca took the packet and put her arms around Pamela. Slowly, she guided her back towards the house, through the boot room and somehow managed to get Pamela sitting on a stool around the kitchen island, still sobbing. She grabbed a box of tissues she spied on the windowsill and placed them in front of Pamela.

  ‘Thank you, dear,’ Pamela said, before taking a tissue and dabbing around her mascara stained eyelids.<
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  ‘That’s okay. Shall I fetch us a drink?’ It was too warm to stomach a hot drink, but Pamela might want one.

  Pamela eyed Rebecca up with a wry smirk on the corner of her lips. ‘I’ve got some tonic chilling in the fridge, I don’t suppose you fancy a G&T, do you?’

  Rebecca looked at the clock and shrugged. It was gone three on a Saturday and she could always walk home. ‘Why not?’ she grinned.

  Pamela laughed. ‘Good, because I feel like getting drunk!’

  ‘I’m not sure that’s going to help you,’ Rebecca said, watching Pamela and her revived energy descend the stool and start rummaging for tonic and lemons in the fridge.

  ‘Well, I need something to numb the sheer frustration of living with Edward again.’ Pamela wandered over to the long, in-built dresser on the far wall and took out a bottle of gin.

  ‘He is quite particular about everything, isn’t he? He rearranged my cutlery draw because he said spoons should go on the right. Arrgh!’ Rebecca gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth. She’d said too much; this was Pamela’s husband she was talking about.

  Carefully she watched Pamela’s expression, expecting her to see red. Instead Pamela just looked shocked, before bursting into laughter. She put the gin bottle down on the island and started laughing. ‘Oh, Rebecca! That’s cheered me up no end,’ she said, in between fits of giggles. ‘That is exactly what he’s like and I stupidly put up with it for forty years. And now he’s getting on my bloody nerves!’

  Rebecca couldn’t help it; Pamela’s laughter was infectious. She found herself laughing fit to burst too.

  ‘Oh, stop it!’ Pamela wiped away the tears, trailing down her cheeks. ‘He thinks he’s such a bloody charmer, but no-one wants to live with him! No wonder he’s done such a good line in love ‘em and leave ‘em over the years.’

  Rebecca stopped laughing. That’s exactly what he’d done to her.

  Pamela’s face fell, as she recognised Rebecca’s pained expression. Her hand flew to her chest. ‘Oh, my dear, I didn’t mean to upset you.’