‘That’s because I never met him, so there’s not a lot to say. He was a sculptor, lived in New Mexico and was married, but he had a brief fling with my mother when he was over here. He knew about me, but he didn’t send any maintenance or anything, so it was a surprise when he left me some money.’
‘At least you’re sure he was your father,’ Rufus observed, trundling the van sedately through the sleepy village of Sticklepond, where the only sign of life was an elderly lady holystoning the doorstep of the Falling Star pub, opposite the Witchcraft Museum.
‘He didn’t leave me as much as Baz left you, only a small nest egg. I’ve blown some of it on my first clothes collection, with a little kept back for unseen contingencies, and the rest has gone to settle Debo’s outstanding bills.’
‘Then I think you’ve just thrown good money away.’
‘No I haven’t!’ I said indignantly. ‘It’s only Debo’s soft heart where animals are concerned that got her into debt, but with Sandy and Judy primed to keep her on the straight and narrow, and me to keep a tight rein on the bookkeeping, she’ll be fine now. She’s great at getting donations from her celeb friends, too.’
‘I can imagine,’ he said slightly drily. ‘So … are the clothes you’re going to sell the kind of thing you usually wear?’
Today I had on a jade-green and silver floaty tunic top and a matching quilted jacket, worn over jeans.
‘Yes. I think they’re going to appeal to all ages, because they’ll be new to the younger buyers and familiar to older ones. And I’m going to stock big sizes too, because they look great on curvy women.’
‘I think it sounds like a winner and I do like the clothes you wear,’ he said unexpectedly. ‘That green top and jacket make you look more like an exotic leprechaun than a pixie, today.’
‘I think you’re very rude,’ I told him severely, but smiling.
After we’d bought our filing cabinets and other odds and ends and loaded everything into the van, we walked into the centre of Ormskirk and had coffee at the Blue Dog café, which Judy had recommended.
The entrance was next to a new shop called The Happy Macaroon and we stopped to admire the mouth-watering display in the window.
As well as the trays of multi-hued macaroons, there were realistic models of a traditional tiered wedding cake and a French croquembouche one, an airy pyramid of choux buns covered in sugar strands. At one side was a more prosaic tray of gingerbread pigs with iced curly tails and raisin eyes, which reminded me of the gingerbread dogs that Judy baked for me when I was little.
In the café, I insisted on buying the coffee and toasted teacakes, since Rufus had driven me in and then hefted the filing cabinets about, and we found a quiet corner.
‘What did you mean yesterday when you said you were on a mission and would have to complete it before you could really get on with your new business?’ he asked, looking up from the task of spreading copious amounts of strawberry jam onto half his teacake.
‘Oh, that …’ I said. ‘It’s just that I intend discovering as much as I can about the accident when Harry was killed. I’ve no recollection of that night beyond setting off for home from the pub, and after I got out of hospital Debo sent me to London to convalesce with Daisy Silver, one of her oldest friends. By the time I got back, everyone had clammed up about it. Now I’m going to talk to all those involved.’
‘Is it a good idea to stir it all up again, after all this time?’
‘It is for me, because I feel I need some kind of closure, and I’ve already made a start, though of course some people are more reluctant to talk about it than others.’
‘I can imagine.’
‘The only person I’ve ever really discussed it with in depth is Daisy Silver – she’s a child psychiatrist by profession so very easy to talk to – and I still do ring her when something is bothering me … like the way my dreams have been turning very strange lately.’
‘Dreams about the accident?’ he asked gently.
‘Yes. I mean, I’ve always had a recurring one about meeting Harry and his friends in the car park that night, but lately it’s been more frequent and … well, detailed. More like a clear memory than a dream.’
Then I found myself pouring out to him how I’d recently been a passenger during another car accident, which seemed to have sparked off a flashback, as well as turning my dreams from grainy black-and-white to vivid Technicolor.
‘The trouble is, I don’t know if it’s actual memories of that night surfacing, or just my subconscious adding details.’
‘That would be unsettling,’ he agreed. ‘And you just can’t tell with dreams. They can seem real and then suddenly go off at a tangent.’
‘That’s more or less what Daisy Silver said. But the thing that really threw me was the brief flashback I had during the second accident – because in that one, I wasn’t in the driver’s seat of the Range Rover, I was in the back.’
‘So then you wondered if you really had been driving that night?’ he said astutely.
‘Exactly! But then Daisy said it might just be a flashback to another occasion when I had been in the back of that car with Harry and his friends, or even just my subconscious showing me what I wanted to have happened.’
‘I understand now why you’re feeling confused and want to get it all clear in your head,’ Rufus said. ‘But are you likely to find out any more than you already know?’
‘I don’t know, but I’m going to give it my best shot. I’m working my way towards the central witnesses, and I’ve already talked to Lulu and Cam, who were working in the pub with me that evening, and to Debo and Judy about what they saw when they arrived at the scene of the accident. Dan Clew got there first, of course, but he wouldn’t tell me any more than had come out at the inquest, which was that he’d found me in the front of the car. When Tom Tamblyn confirmed that he’d seen Dan lifting me out, I knew it must be true, no matter how much I’d love to believe otherwise.’
‘It’s better to be certain, though, isn’t it? And now I know you a bit better, I’m sure Harry must have talked you into driving, so everyone is right and it wasn’t your fault.’
‘I still can’t image how I agreed to do it, but Cara Ferris is really the only person who can tell me – if she will. I’ve left a couple of messages on her answering service and she hasn’t got back to me. I need to see if Simon Clew remembers anything too, though Dan warned me off speaking to him. But anyway, they’re the two final and most important witnesses.’
‘You’re clearly a woman of great determination,’ he said, a slight smile in his green eyes. ‘Myra told me yesterday that you were engaged to a doctor you’d met abroad?’
He glanced at my left hand, which was entirely bare of an engagement ring. I hadn’t taken it off; Kieran had simply never got round to buying me one.
‘I was, but now I’m not, because things didn’t work out. I feel that I’m meant to live and work in Halfhidden, and Kieran, my ex-fiancé, was determined to settle in Oxford near his ghastly parents.’
‘Ghastly parents sound like a deal-breaker to me,’ he agreed. ‘Though they can’t be as bad as Fliss. I think I only survived my childhood because my father paid for boarding school the second I was old enough.’
‘How old?’
‘Eight.’
‘Poor little boy!’ I said, my heart wrung at the thought of him setting off to live away from home at such a young age.
‘Actually, I preferred it to being dumped by Fliss with whichever of her friends would have me, while she went off with the latest man, or into rehab or wherever. I spent very little time with her.’
‘Are you fond of her?’ I asked curiously.
He shrugged. ‘A couple of times when I was home in the holidays and she’d just got out of rehab, she was entirely different and it would be fun … and then it would all spiral out of control and she’d lose interest in me again because of the drink and drugs.’
‘Yes – and she drew my mother into that circ
le,’ I said bitterly, even though that was hardly Rufus’s fault. In fact, I thought he’d turned out surprisingly well, considering.
‘Did you see much of your father – or the man you thought was your father?’ I asked him.
‘Very little. He married someone much younger a few years later and had a family. His wife was jealous of me and resented his having to support me. I haven’t even met any of his other children.’
‘Families can be so difficult,’ I said sympathetically.
‘So, to answer your original question – yes, I suppose I have some feelings for her but, as they say, it’s complicated. And even more complicated since I learned that Baz was my father.’
He was looking withdrawn and brooding again, and it suddenly occurred to me that our early years had been equally traumatic, though in very different ways: he had never been allowed a proper childhood, while mine came to an abrupt end on the night of Harry’s death. We were also linked through our mothers’ friendship – if you could call something that proved so toxic by that name – as well as through Baz, which perhaps was why we seemed to understand each other surprisingly well.
I looked at Rufus, sitting there with his long legs stretched out, coffee cup in hand, and for the first time really clocked the whole stunning effect of those strangely merman sea-washed light green eyes, the silky dark chestnut hair falling over his forehead, the fine Roman nose and the cleft in his chin that suddenly made me want to reach out and run my finger over it …
He looked up and smiled as if he had caught my thought in mid-flight and I felt myself colour slightly.
‘I’m sorry I was rude to you when we first met,’ he said. ‘I was still angry with everyone, but it was unreasonable to take it out on you, especially when I didn’t know all the facts.’
‘And I’m sorry if I was horrible to you about your mother.You can’t help who she is, or what she’s like,’ I said.
‘Friends?’ he suggested tentatively.
‘Friends,’ I agreed. ‘And I want you to meet Cameron and Lulu properly, too, because they’re my oldest friends.’
‘Well, I was thinking of going down to the pub tonight, to see Howling Hetty’s famous skull, so Lulu might be around then.’
‘We all will, because Cam’s grandfather, Jonas, is going to tell the Haunted Weekenders all sorts of ghastly ghost stories this evening and we fancied listening in.’
‘I’ll probably see you down there, then.’
‘Or we might meet up and walk down together,’ I suggested as I fished my phone out of my pocket and checked to see if I’d missed any messages from Judy, asking me to bring anything back with me.
My phone had managed to switch itself to sulky silence, which it did sometimes, and I could see I’d missed loads of calls and messages. But I didn’t even have a chance to check who they were from before it rang again.
‘Izzy?’ demanded a familiar voice, in a newly recognisable terse manner.
‘Kieran?’ I said, astonished. ‘Have you been trying to get me?’
‘Of course I have – haven’t you noticed? I’ve even rung the Lodge, but there was no answer.’
‘They were probably out with the dogs and I’m in Ormskirk, shopping.’
‘Well, I drove all the way up here last night specially to see you – and I need to go back this afternoon.’
‘You’re here? Why on earth didn’t you let me know you were coming?’ I exclaimed, surprised. ‘And where did you stay last night?’
‘A hotel down the hill from the village, with some ridiculous name.’
‘The Screaming Skull?’
‘That’s the one. How long will it take you to get here?’
‘I – well, I suppose three-quarters of an hour or so …’ I began, reluctantly. ‘But—’
‘Right. The restaurant looks decent, so I’ll book lunch for twelve.’
‘But why have you—’ I began, only to find he’d cut the connection. It was a habit I was by now very tired of.
‘That was my ex-fiancé,’ I told Rufus. ‘He’s driven all the way up from Oxford to see me, without bothering to let me know, and he’s going back this afternoon.’
‘I gather he’s at the pub.’
‘Yes, and he’s expecting me there for lunch at twelve.’
Rufus looked at his watch. ‘Come on then, I can drop you off on the way back and I’ll leave your filing cabinets at the Lodge afterwards.’
‘That’s kind of you,’ I said. ‘I don’t know what he wants …’
‘Presumably he wants you back.’
‘He’s going to be out of luck, then,’ I said firmly. I suddenly realised how much I’d enjoyed the morning with Rufus and how little I wanted to see Kieran again, let alone have lunch with him.
When Rufus pulled up in the pub car park, we could see Kieran standing outside with his arms folded, as if I was a stay-out-all-night teenager. Then he looked at his watch and frowned.
Clearly he wasn’t expecting me to arrive in a beaten-up old Transit van, because he didn’t spot me until I got out.
I noticed he gave Rufus a hard stare as he drove off and his first words to me were not any kind of endearment but a snapped, ‘Who was that man?’
‘A neighbour,’ I said, equally snappily, and he seemed to pull himself together and remember what he was there for. He kissed me – on my cheek, since I turned my head at the last moment – and said how nice I looked and how much he’d missed me.
‘I wish you’d let me know you were coming, Kieran.’
‘It was an impulse! I knew you didn’t mean what you said and it would be easier to sort things out face to face.’
I was just about to enlighten him on the fact that I had meant every word, when he said we’d better go straight in to lunch.
On the way, we bumped into Lulu and I introduced him.
‘Kieran? And I had no idea who you were!’ she said, amazed, but he barely said hello before carrying on towards the restaurant. I made a face at her behind his back and she grinned.
The waitress and the only other female diner in the room clearly thought Kieran looked very toothsome – which I suppose he did, though I preferred him in dishevelled linen rather than his current smart-casual attire, new haircut and critical expression – yes, he was definitely turning into his father!
If I had any lingering fondness for him, it was the kind of feeling you get when looking at snaps of past happy times.
Over lunch, it transpired that he’d expected that at the sight of him I’d have fallen into his arms with expressions of rapture and abject apologies for the way I’d behaved. Also with promises to move right down to Oxford, although, he magnanimously conceded, I could have a quiet little wedding in my one-horse village first.
‘If that’s what you really want. I know your hippy-dippy upbringing means you have all kinds of strange ideas.’
‘Too kind,’ I said, tucking into my seafood ravioli. Lulu’s brother, Bruce, really was an inspired chef!
I finished off every delicious morsel of that before breaking it to Kieran that, as I’d already told him, it really was all over. I wasn’t going to go back to him.
‘I really don’t honestly think we would be happy, Kieran, but I do hope we can stay friends.’
This sop seemed to make him so angry that I predicted a serious case of indigestion before he was even halfway home.
‘I see I’ve wasted my time – and I suspect I know why. It’s that man who drove you here, isn’t it?’ he accused me.
I felt myself flush, and said angrily, ‘Of course not, don’t be silly! I’ve only been home for five minutes, so what sort of quick worker do you think I am?’
But I could see he’d already made his mind up, and by now I’d had enough both of the excellent lunch and the far-from-excellent conversation, so I grabbed my handbag and got up to go.
‘Thank you for lunch, but I must get home now.’
‘I’ll drive you there.’
‘No need – you get
off on your journey.’
But he insisted on at least seeing me out and we were just walking across the car park towards the start of the path, where I hoped to shake him off, when there was a clip-clop of hoofs on the road and none other than Cara Ferris – now Lady Cripchet – came into view.
It was too good an opportunity to lose, so on impulse I called, ‘Cara, wait!’
She turned her head and scowled blackly at me … and then her gaze slid past and fell on Kieran. She did a classic double-take, her eyes widening, then yanked on the reins. Her mount, a sturdy dapple grey, came to a halt, snorting.
‘Cara, could I have a word …?’ I began, but she ignored me, still staring at Kieran as if she couldn’t believe her eyes.
He seemed equally stunned. ‘Cara, is that you? Long time, no see!’
Cara slid off her mount and he kissed her with more enthusiasm than he’d shown to me.
‘You know each other?’ I said, stating the obvious.
‘Yes, from Oxford,’ Kieran said, and he didn’t have to explain how well they’d once known each other because it was evident. ‘We lost touch.’
‘We did, but it’s great to see you again,’ Cara agreed. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’
They seemed to have forgotten I was there again, but I reminded them. ‘I’ve been trying to get in touch with you, Cara,’ I said. ‘Could we—’
‘You know I don’t want to talk to you,’ she snapped. ‘I don’t even know what you’re doing here, but I wish you’d go away!’
‘We used to be engaged,’ Kieran explained. ‘Look, Izzy, I know you want to get off. Don’t let me keep you.’
‘No, and I certainly don’t want to speak to you ever again,’ Cara said emphatically, then added rudely, ‘Clear off!’
There didn’t seem any point in hanging about after that, so I left them to it, noting that Kieran was not now showing any sign of urgency to get back to Oxford.
I looked round before the turn of the path. The dapple grey was hitched to the pergola by the beer garden and Kieran and Cara were heading into the pub. She was almost as tall as he was, so their heads were very close together …
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