by Pamela Evans
‘It’s only natural that you would,’ said Jane. ‘I mean . . . it’s very much a father-son type of relationship you have with him.’
‘Indeed.’
‘I think he looks on you as the nearest thing he has to a father.’
‘Does he?’
‘Oh, yes. He’s very fond of you.’
‘I feel the same about him.’
‘I wonder if the children have any idea . . . about us?’
‘I’m not sure. Kids are pretty self-absorbed. And we have been very discreet.’
‘It’s hard to keep it secret when you’re bursting with happiness.’
‘Isn’t it just?’ he agreed. ‘I thought my life was over when Lena died. Now I feel as though it’s beginning all over again.’
‘I’m sure the children will be pleased that we’re all going to be one family.’
‘I’m certain they’ll be delighted . . . I only wish we could tell them.’
‘To do that would be tantamount to broadcasting it on the BBC.’ She smiled wickedly. ‘Or telling our esteemed neighbour, Mrs Robinson.’
He laughed.
‘Yes, they’re too young to keep secrets at the moment.’
‘If you weren’t a teacher, it wouldn’t matter . . . not these days.’
‘That’s true.’
‘Still, next year we can bring it out into the open,’ she said. ‘We only have to keep it to ourselves for a while longer.’
‘Yes.’
Although Jane was looking forward with pleasure to making their relationship public, she knew that the news wasn’t going to be well received by everyone. In fact, she knew of one person in particular who was going to be very upset indeed!
Chapter Sixteen
‘You’re obviously not happy, Marie,’ said Jane one October morning when the two women were working together in the cottage kitchen, and the pique that had been evinced by her sister-in-law so effectively during the last few days showed no signs of abating. ‘So, why don’t you tell me what’s the matter?’
‘I really don’t know what you mean,’ denied Marie huffily.
‘Oh, come on,’ said Jane with real concern. ‘You’ve been going about with a face like thunder for days . . . and you’ve barely said a word to me.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with me,’ she said with emphasis on the last word as she slammed a cake-tin down on the table ready to prepare for the oven.
‘Oh, so I’m the one at fault, am I?’ said Jane. ‘In that case, tell me what I’ve done to upset you so that I can try to put it right?’
‘Just leave it, will you?’ said Marie through tight lips.
‘No, I won’t leave it,’ objected Jane, distressed by her friend’s attitude. ‘You’ve been funny with me for days. And I think I’ve a right to know what I’ve done to deserve it.’
‘Nothing,’ declared Marie, the rigid set of her shoulders showing otherwise.
‘Are you not happy with what I’m paying you for the job? Is that it?’ asked Jane, who was peeling apples for the spicy apple cake.
‘I’m quite satisfied with the pay, thank you,’ said Marie starchily.
‘Are you feeling overworked or something then?’ persisted Jane, determined to find out what was troubling her.
‘It’s nothing to do with the job,’ said Marie sulkily.
‘Ah, so there is something . . . you’ve just admitted it,’ said Jane, pausing in what she was doing and turning to Marie who was greasing the cake-tin as though her life depended on it and refusing to look at her.
‘Please answer me, Marie.’
No reply.
‘Look, we’ve been friends for a very long time . . .’
‘Humph,’ snorted Marie. ‘What do long relationships mean to you?’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Marie shrugged her shoulders, her mouth set in a grim line.
‘Oh, I’ve had just about enough of this,’ said Jane crossly, patience weakening under the strain of Marie’s mood. ‘I’m being made to feel uncomfortable in my own kitchen and you won’t even tell me what I’ve done wrong.’
Marie swung round, eyes flashing, cheeks brightly suffused.
‘All right, you asked for it,’ she rasped through clenched teeth. ‘How could you, Jane? How could you do it?’
‘How could I do what?’
‘You and him next-door.’
‘Oh, so that’s what all this is about?’ she said, putting the knife down and turning her whole attention to her friend. ‘How did you find out?’
‘I’ve suspected something was going on for ages but I refused to believe it,’ she said. ‘Then, the other day, I heard Davey telling Roy and Melanie, as bold as brass, that his Uncle Giles, whom he seems to think is the next best thing to Father Christmas, is his mother’s boyfriend! ’
‘Oh dear,’ said Jane, biting her lip. ‘I’m sorry you had to find out that way. We obviously haven’t been as discreet as we intended.’
‘You don’t deny it, then?’ said Marie, the greaseproof paper rustling in her trembling fingers.
‘No, I don’t deny it,’ said Jane in a gentle tone because she knew this wasn’t easy for Marie.
‘Well!’ she snorted.
‘Look, I know how you feel about Mick and me. But there isn’t really any reason why I should deny the fact that I’m seeing Giles.’
‘Why have you been keeping so quiet about it then, if you don’t feel guilty?’
‘Because Giles is a schoolteacher and I’m still technically married.’
‘Oh, so that fact hasn’t been entirely forgotten then?’
‘Of course it hasn’t,’ said Jane patiently. ‘But we’d rather people didn’t know about us until we’re able to take steps towards getting married. And that isn’t possible, legally, until next year when Mick will have been gone for seven years.’
Marie abandoned her task and wiped her greasy hands on her apron.
‘You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you?’ she said.
‘I really don’t think that’s any of your business.’
‘So you are,’ she said in disgust. ‘I can’t believe you would do a thing like that.’
‘Be fair, Marie. Mick has been gone for a long time. My having a boyfriend after all this time hardly makes me promiscuous.’
‘So you’re just using Giles for sex?’
‘No, of course I’m not,’ said Jane, insulted by the suggestion. ‘I’m in love with him.’
‘How can you say such a thing? To me of all people?’
‘I don’t want to lie to you about it . . . not now that you know we’re together.’
‘I never thought you would let anyone else take Mick’s place.’
‘And I haven’t,’ insisted Jane. ‘What Mick and I had was very special and right for us both at that time in our lives. But he’s long gone and I’ve fallen in love with someone else. It happens, Marie. Life sweeps us all along with it.’
Marie stared at her, accusation still burning in her eyes.
‘I wasn’t the one who walked out, remember,’ Jane pointed out.
‘Mick was under a strain . . . he’ll be back.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ said Jane, angry now. ‘You’re being completely unreasonable. I know you love your brother but surely this is taking sisterly loyalty too far? You know what a hard time I had after Mick went. You’re my friend as well as Mick’s sister. Surely you should be pleased that I’ve found happiness with someone else?’
‘Okay, so you think I’m unreasonable,’ said Marie. ‘But my first loyalty has to be to my brother.’
‘Even though he deserted his wife and children?’
‘Yes. Even though he did that.’
Marie had always had an unusually close bond with her brother. Now Jane realised just how unyielding that bond was.
‘Surely you don’t expect me to give Giles up just in case Mick turns up one day and we both still feel the same about each other?’
Her sister-in-la
w said nothing but the look in her eyes spoke volumes.
‘It isn’t even me as a person you object to having a boyfriend, is it?’ said Jane sharply. ‘It’s the fact that your brother’s wife has found someone else, that’s what you can’t take.’
‘I can’t, I admit it,’ confessed Marie, her tone becoming more subdued. ‘Okay, so I’ve no right to interfere . . . but I can’t help it because you’re the only woman Mick ever wanted.’
‘Before he went away, that was perfectly true,’ said Jane. ‘But things have changed. He’s probably found someone else by now, too.’
‘Not Mick.’
‘Be that as it may,’ said Jane, ‘I think you’re being really unfair to me.’
‘Maybe I am,’ said Marie, shrugging her shoulders. ‘But I can’t help the way I feel.’
‘I’m sorry you can’t find it in your heart to be more understanding,’ said Jane sadly. ‘Because I intend to go ahead and marry Giles as soon as it’s legally possible.’
‘Well . . . don’t bother to send me an invitation to the wedding,’ rasped Marie.
‘I won’t if you’d rather not.’
‘Oh, I’d rather not all right,’ she cut in, her voice rising emotionally. ‘In fact, I think you’d better find a replacement for me here, as well.’
‘Oh, now you really are taking things too far,’ said Jane, beset by a storm of emotions. She was angry, hurt, frustrated, and above all deeply sad. But she couldn’t allow herself to be browbeaten. ‘You just don’t have the right to tell me how to live my life.’
‘I know that.’
‘I’m glad to hear you admit it,’ said Jane with a glimmer of hope.
‘But it won’t work between us now that you have a new man in your life,’ said Marie coldly. ‘So it’ll be best if I go.’
‘So you are prepared to sacrifice your job and your friendship with me because of some misguided loyalty to your brother?’ said Jane incredulously.
‘There’s no need to belittle my feelings,’ Marie retorted. ‘And, yes, I am prepared to give up those things.’
Jane was smarting from the knowledge that Marie would toss aside the friendship which had meant so much to both of them.
‘Surely you don’t really mean it?’ she said in a softer tone.
‘I do.’
‘Let’s talk about it, please?’ said Jane in a conciliatory manner.
‘What’s the point when I meant what I said?’ was the adamant response.
‘Oh, well, if that’s your attitude, don’t let me keep you,’ said Jane curtly, because she was so deeply hurt. ‘You might as well go right away.’
‘I don’t want to leave you in the lurch,’ said Marie, her voice trembling. ‘I’m quite prepared to stay on until you find a replacement.’
‘And make my life a misery with your constant disapproval? No, thanks,’ announced Jane, struggling against tears. ‘I’ll manage on my own until I find someone suitable to replace you. I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again. If your brother taught me nothing else when he walked out, it was how to fend for myself.’
‘If that’s the way you feel, I’ll go this very minute,’ said Marie, tearing off her overall and cap with sharp angry movements. ‘And don’t bother to collect my children from school in your car. I’ll be picking them up myself in future.’
‘As you wish,’ agreed Jane, her heart breaking. ‘I’ll send your money on to you when I’ve worked out how much I owe you.’
‘Fine. I’ll see myself out,’ said Marie, and marched to the hall to get her coat.
Jane stood where she was at the worktop, staring blindly at a pile of apple peel and wincing as she heard the front door slam. As well as her personal sense of loss, Marie had left behind a professional headache. The mild disorder of a commercial kitchen became chaos with a fifty per cent reduction in workforce. With half-done jobs to be finished all over the place and today’s production target still to be met, there was no time to brood even though she wanted only to put her head in her hands and weep.
Forcing back the tears, she worked with a deft hand, mixing, pouring, chopping, loading and unloading the ovens, putting cakes on to cooling trays. She would probably meet her target but her heart wasn’t in it.
After an utterly miserable afternoon, that evening Jane asked Giles if he could look after the children for an hour or so while she went round to Marie’s to try to make her see reason.
Eddie answered the door and came out on to the path to talk to Jane, looking grim and closing the door behind him.
‘Marie saw you drive up outside and sent me to tell you that she doesn’t want to see you,’ he said with obvious embarrassment.
‘I see.’ Jane was gutted. ‘She told you all about it, I suppose?’
He nodded.
‘I came in the hope that we could patch things up,’ explained Jane.
‘She won’t have any of it, not at the moment anyway,’ he said. ‘She’s always had this thing about Mick.’
‘It’s so damned unreasonable and she must know that in her heart,’ said Jane. ‘She’s an intelligent woman. So fair and rational in every other way.’
‘She’s never been clear-headed when it comes to that brother of hers,’ he said sadly. ‘It’s an emotional thing with her.’
‘I can’t believe she doesn’t want us to be friends any more.’
‘She’s devastated by what’s happened, too, but she won’t change her mind,’ said Eddie, shaking his head slowly. ‘I don’t think she can help herself when it comes to Mick.’
‘Surely she must realise she isn’t being fair to me?’
‘I think she probably does realise it, deep inside, but she won’t admit it. She can’t accept the idea of you and Giles, so she thinks it’s best if she’s out of your life.’
Jane’s eyes filled with tears.
‘I’m sorry, Jane.’
‘So am I,’ she said miserably. ‘You can tell Marie that I’m very hurt that she’s taken this attitude.’
‘I’ll tell her,’ said Eddie with a sigh of resignation.
‘Thanks. See you.’
‘See you.’
His brow was deeply furrowed as he watched her walk down the path to her car.
The New Year of 1973 had been welcomed in with gusto at Jane’s cottage. Her father and Giles’s mother had celebrated with them and were staying overnight with their respective offspring.
Joe had shown his usual reluctance to put in an appearance when he’d known Trudy was going to be there but had seemed to enjoy himself once he’d come. Both parents had been told of the situation between Jane and Giles and had agreed to keep it to themselves for the time being.
It had been a warm and friendly family evening consisting of a party-style buffet followed by a game of charades then some TV. The children had managed to stay awake until midnight and Davey, being the darkest, had first footed. After joining the television performers in ‘Auld Lang Syne’, they had all trooped outside to the garden to watch the sky lit with fireworks.
But now everyone had settled down for the night and Jane and Giles had slipped out for a walk by the river and a few precious moments alone together.
The stretch of river nearest to Vine Cottages was deserted but a vociferous crowd was doing the conga on Kew Bridge. The sound of partying drifted from some nearby pubs with extended licences, too. An occasional late firework exploded prettily into the inky black sky above the amber haze of town lights.
It was a clear night, the air permeated with smoke from the fireworks and the earthy smell of the river. Wrapped in coats and scarves, they stood on the lit promenade looking into the dark water, both in reflective mood after the festivities.
‘I expect you’ve been thinking about Lena, haven’t you?’ remarked Jane.
‘Yes, I have, actually . . . I hope that doesn’t bother you?’
‘Of course not.’
‘The memories just came flooding in.’
‘I hope they always do,’
she said, squeezing his hand. ‘New Year is a time for thinking about old loves and old friends. I often find the whole thing quite hard to take.’
‘Have you been thinking about Mick?’
‘Oh, yes, I always do at New Year,’ she confessed. ‘You know, wondering where he is . . . what he’s doing. If he’s happy.’
Giles slipped a comforting arm around her shoulders and drew her closer to him.
‘How would you feel if he ever came back?’
She didn’t answer right away because she wasn’t sure what the answer was.
‘I don’t know, Giles,’ she said at last. ‘I really don’t.’
‘I’m glad you feel you can be honest with me about it.’
‘All I am certain of is that I’m in love with you,’ she said. ‘But obviously I still feel something for him, as you do for Lena.’
‘Ghosts from the past.’
‘I’ve been thinking about Marie too,’ she said. ‘I wish we were still friends.’
‘Yes, it’s a pity about that. Is there nothing you can do to put things right?’
‘Only give you up and I’m not prepared to do that.’
‘I should hope not!’
‘That’s the awful part about it, knowing I can’t patch things up. As fond as I am of her, I can’t let her dictate to me.’
‘No.’
‘I miss her, though.’
‘Yes, it must be hard for you, losing your two closest women friends.’
‘That’s right. I was cut up about Lena, of course, but losing Marie is even more of a blow to me because we’d been friends for such a long time,’ Jane told him. ‘I miss her in the business too. She was such an asset in the kitchen.’
‘Still, at least you managed to find another assistant.’
‘It isn’t the same,’ she said wistfully. ‘Marie and I knew each other so well we could communicate without words a lot of the time. I have to spell everything out for the woman who’s working for me now. There isn’t the same cosy atmosphere at all.’
‘Maybe Marie will see things your way in time?’
‘If only . ..’
‘Anyway, it’s New Year so let’s look on the bright side,’ he said.
‘You’re right . . . enough of looking back on sad things,’ she agreed. ‘We’ve plenty to look forward to this coming year.’