‘With James, you mean?’
Catherine felt herself going pink. ‘No, not necessarily. That whole thing’s a non-starter anyway, if you ask me.’
‘Well, I think I have to agree with you if you say he hasn’t been in touch with you once since he went away.’ Felicity reached for a cigarette.
‘I asked him not to.’
‘Just as well.’
‘What do you mean?’ Catherine watched her sister’s wary expression.
‘Nothing. I just think that if he’s the sort to play false once, he’ll do it again.’
‘Are you talking about when we all lived in Sussex? The pageant?’
‘Pageant? What’s the pageant got to do with it?’ Felicity’s eyebrows rose.
‘Oh, nothing.’ Catherine took a deep swallow of tea.
‘Oh, so that’s when it all happened, is it?’ grinned Felicity. ‘Hot steamy summer nights under the scaffolding?’
‘Flicka,’ scolded Catherine. ‘No, it wasn’t. Well, yes, it was, but – oh, honestly.’
‘Anyway, he was still married then, so what would be to stop him philandering whoever he was with?’ Felicity leant over to tap off cigarette ash.
‘Are you warning me off?’ Catherine put down her mug. ‘Last time I was up here you were all for me making a dead set at him.’
‘Well , I’ve had time to think about it since then,’ said Felicity, offhandedly. ‘Oh, I forgot the paracetamol.’ And she jumped up and disappeared into the kitchen.
Slightly puzzled by her sister’s change of attitude, Catherine nevertheless didn’t refer to it again. Packing was a long and rather dirty business, and by Wednesday evening, both girls were thoroughly worn out and only too ready for the Indian takeaway that Felicity ordered.
On Thursday morning, the removal van that was taking Felicity to her new home arrived at eight, and by eleven o’clock, not only had the obliging removal men packed all Felicity’s goods, they had also loaded Catherine’s van.
As they sat with mugs of tea in the now empty kitchen, Felicity grinned at her sister.
‘Well, I really have broken free, now, haven’t I?’
‘You certainly have,’ agreed Catherine. ‘Nervous?’
‘I am a bit. That’s what I was coming to, actually.’ Felicity bent her head over her mug. ‘I really would like you to come down with me, Cat. Won’t you change your mind?’
Catherine gazed fondly at her sister’s bent head, a lump forming annoyingly in her throat.
‘Oh, all right, nuisance,’ she said, rather tremulously, and was rewarded with a brilliant smile and a bear hug, to the imminent danger of the tea.
‘I must phone Andrew though.’ Catherine stood up to fetch her mobile from her bag.
‘Why must you phone Andrew?’ Felicity frowned.
‘To tell him I won’t be able to go up to London with him, remember? He wanted me to go have a few days’ luxury. We were going tomorrow.’
‘Oh, Cat. I’m sorry. I’ d forgotten. Don’t come then.’ Felicity looked stricken.
‘No, I’ll just give him a ring. I can sort it out, don’t worry.’
Sure enough, Andrew was perfectly happy with the change of plan.
‘I’ll go up tomorrow, as planned and you join me Sunday. How about that?’ He sounded very chirpy.
‘I’ll still have the van with me, though,’ Catherine demurred.
‘Does that matter? We’ll go home in it. Or are you worried because you haven’t got anything to wear?’
‘Oh, no,’ laughed Catherine. ‘All my city clothes were up here anyway, so I’ve got all of those. No, as long as you don’t mind me coming Sunday. You hadn’t got tickets for anything, had you?’
‘No, I was going to try and get returns once we were here. We’ll have a nice dinner on Sunday and then go and do a couple of shows Monday. Then we can drive home Tuesday. All right with you?’
‘Lovely.’ Catherine hesitated. ‘You haven’t heard anything from James, then?’
‘Oh, yes. I forgot to tell you. He called from Germany. He didn’t say much, but I gather the situation is in hand, if not settled.’
‘Oh.’ Catherine wondered whether to ask when he was coming home and decided against it. ‘Right, then, Andrew. I’ll see you at the hotel on Sunday, fiveish, I should think. OK?’
‘Fine. See you then, my dear. Bye for now.’
‘All OK ?’ asked Felicity, coming in wearing her jacket.
‘Yes, thanks.’ Catherine smiled abstractedly.
‘Right, well, I’ve got to go and give these keys to the agent, so will you follow me, or do you want to set off and make your own way there?’
‘I do know the way,’ grinned Catherine. ‘Besides, I shall need a head-start in that van. I can only do about 40 miles an hour in it.’
‘I’ll see you there, then, ’ said Felicity, and ushered her sister out of the flat for the last time.
By seven o’clock that evening, all of the furniture was in place in Felicity’s new home and Catherine was surprised at how obviously popular her young sister was, judging by the number of visitors who arrived offering to help and the stack of “Welcome” cards that were waiting for them. Mary had brought round a casserole, a bottle of wine and Paul, to do any handyman-style chores that needed doing, and the four of them spent a convivial evening among the packing cases, until Felicity and Catherine decided they ought to make up the beds and get some sleep. As she got ready for bed, Catherine realised with surprise that she had barely thought about James since speaking to Andrew that morning. Perhaps I’m getting over him again, she thought sleepily as she fell into bed in Felicity’s tiny spare room, and promptly fell asleep to dream of him more vividly than she had for weeks.
The little town hadn’t changed much since they had left four years ago, thought Catherine as she shopped for essentials the next morning, having left Felicity to finish unpacking china and linen. Tall Victorian buildings ran along one side of the square, housing solicitors and accountants, the two sides contained an old coaching inn and a few boutiques in even older buildings and the fourth side was formed by part of the high street, containing the usual array of small supermarkets, butchers, chemists and greengrocers. On Saturdays and Wednesdays, the square was transformed from car park to market, but today being Friday, Catherine was able to park in the square.
‘Catherine.’ A voice hailed her as she was locking the door of Felicity’s car. ‘I thought it was you. Where did you spring from?’
Catherine turned round to find a blonde young man beaming at her.
‘Terry. Good heavens. Hallo, how are you?’
‘I’m fine, thanks. Well, this is a lovely surprise. What are you doing back here? Haven’t seen you for years.’ He rested his bulging briefcase on the boot of the car, obviously prepared for a long chat.
‘Felicity’s moved back. I’ve been helping her.’ Catherine slung her bag over her shoulder and put her head on one side. ‘You’ve lost weight.’
‘Yes, I have. Thanks for noticing.’ Terry beamed again. ‘Actually, I’d seen Felicity a couple of times recently, but I thought she was just visiting. Moved in, has she? Where?’
‘Fallowfield, you know just down towards the school. Those little new houses.’
‘Oh, I know. On her own?’
‘Yes, so you’ll be all right there, Terry.’ Catherine laughed.
‘Oh, you know it was always you I was after.’ Terry’s eyes ranged over her fondly. ‘You haven’t changed much. Married?’
‘Me? Good heavens, no. I’m much too sensible.’ Catherine smiled at him.
‘But you’re not moving back, I take it?’
‘No, I inherited my grandmother’s cottage. I’ve moved in there. I’m just here for the weekend – until Sunday. How about you? Are you married?’
‘I was nearly, but I got out of it. Hey, listen. As you’re here for the weekend, there’s a party on tomorrow night – lot of the old crowd. How about me taking you to it? Both of you, of c
ourse. Or is Felicity already going?’
‘She hasn’t said anything about it. I’ll ask her when I get back. Can we give you a ring?’
‘Yes, ring me at the office – still the same place.’
‘Hodson and Hodson? Still struggling there, are you?’ Catherine laughed.
‘Fully fledged, now – all parts completed. You see before you one of the town’s foremost tax specialists, I’ll have you know.’ Terry grinned. ‘Well, you give me a ring there later on, and I’ll pick you both up tomorrow about eight-thirty if you can come. What number Fallowfield?’
‘29. And thanks, Terry.’
Catherine completed the shopping jauntily, the encounter with her old suitor having revived her flagging self-esteem. One or two other people stopped to speak to her, mostly young women who were now married with small children and who had been in her crowd years ago. A few made her feel heartily relieved that she had not suffered the same fate as they, but on the other hand, there were two or three whose obvious happiness struck a chord somewhere in the region of her ribcage, causing her to go back to Felicity with a mind annoyingly full of James Grant.
‘Guess who I met in town?’ The girls were sitting over the dining table with fresh bread and cheese, apples and coffee.
‘Who?’ Felicity looked up sharply.
‘Only Terry Porter,’ replied Catherine, surprised. ‘Who did you think I might have met?’
‘Oh, no one.’ Felicity looked relieved and Catherine frowned, but before she could press her sister any further, Felicity went on, ‘So how’s Terry these days? Still got a crush on you? I hear he’s not married yet.’
‘So he told me. He’s invited us both to a party tomorrow night. He said some of the old crowd are going. In fact, he thought you might have already been invited?’
‘No, I don’t think anyone’s mentioned it. Mind you, I’m not really back in the social swing yet.’ Felicity grinned. ‘Did he say who was holding it?’
‘No. He said I was to ring him at Hodson’s if we can go and he’ll pick us up at half-eight.’
‘Right, get on with it, girl. Time you did a spot more socialising.’ Felicity stood up, sweeping the remains of their meal off the table.
Catherine surveyed herself in the black trousers and white satin jacket which were the only things she thought suitable for a Saturday night party, and regretted the fact that the dark green dress was hanging in the wardrobe at Garth Cottage. Still, she thought, as she twisted in front of Felicity’s mirror, she didn’t look bad. She looked over at her sister, gaily arrayed in her favourite pink, this time a very short dress with a toning waiter’s jacket.
‘Ready?’ she asked.
‘Yup. Just finishing the nail varnish. There.’ Gingerly, Felicity screwed the lid back on the bottle. ‘Was that the front door?’
Catherine went downstairs and peered through the window. ‘Yes.’ she called upstairs, before opening the door to Terry.
‘Wow,’ he said admiringly taking in her appearance, and then, as Felicity came down into the hall, ‘And wow again. Hey, this is great. Everyone’s going to be green with envy.’
‘We’re not accessories, you know, Terry,’ laughed Catherine, as Felicity went round switching lights off.
‘Maybe not, but you’re sure going to enhance my reputation,’ he asserted happily as he ushered them out to the waiting taxi.
The party was in a 30s Tudor detached house belonging to one of the more successful of the old tennis-club set and his wife. Not many of the guests had arrived when Catherine, Felicity and Terry put in an appearance, so they were able to catch up on news with their hosts before the onslaught. Everyone seemed delighted that Felicity should have come home again, and several old friends professed themselves disappointed that Catherine, too, was not returning. As it began to fill up, Catherine found herself deep in one of these conversations with Terry and their hostess.
‘Lots of people here you’ll know, I expect, Catherine, although we have had quite an influx of new ones with all the new building and the new business park opening up. Oh. Will you excuse me a moment – I must go and take some coats.’ And their hostess vanished into the crowd.
‘Business p ark? I didn’t know about that?’ Catherine turned to Terry.
‘Oh, yes. Out on the edge of town where Smith’s Farm used to be.’
‘Used to be? Oh, how awful.’ Catherine looked distressed.
‘No, no. It was completely derelict, and the land was overworked. Better to be put to good use. It was built up on either side anyway.’
‘Which companies are out there then?’ asked Catherine.
‘Mostly newcomers.’ Terry took some peanuts from a bowl. ‘A couple of locals. Pritchard’s, Eddington’s ...’
‘Eddington’s? Eddington Electronics?’ Catherine gasped, feeling her heart thump.
‘Yes. Why, do you know them?’ Terry raised his eyebrows.
‘Er, not really, but Concept ...’
‘Oh, yes. You were quite friendly with the Grants, weren’t you? Did you know they got divorced?’
‘Yes, I did, actually.’ Catherine took a steadying sip of her drink.
‘Diana was supposed to be getting married to Colin Eddington, you know,’ Terry said ingenuously, stuffing more peanuts into his mouth, ‘But I think that’s all off, now.’
‘Oh?’ Catherine gripped her glass so tightly it was in grave danger of breaking.
‘Well, James suddenly appeared again, a few weeks ago. Hasn’t been seen around for ages – got some other project on somewhere or other. Anyway, he turned up breathing fire and brimstone, apparently.’
‘How do you know?’ asked Catherine in a strained voice.
‘Oh, gossip, you know. Everyone knows everyone in this town, don’t you remember?’
‘Yes,’ Catherine croaked.
Apparently noticing nothing wrong, Terry continued. ‘So, James takes up residence again–’
‘What?’ squeaked Catherine, feeling as though she’d been punched in the stomach.
Terry nodded, his mouth full of peanuts. ‘Mmm. And all of a sudden Mr Eddington was seen no more. So it looks as though Diana and James are back together again. Not that I’ve seen them together personally, but that’s what people have said.’
Catherine was dimly aware of an increasing press of people and noise and an overwhelming desire to scream. Taking a deep breath, she tried to control her shaking voice.
‘Couldn’t it be something to do with the company? After all, Concept and Eddington’s must be in competition, surely?’
‘Yes, I suppose so.’ Terry shrugged. ‘Perhaps old James was being a bit dog in the manger about the ex-wife and the company. He always was a bit autocratic and dictatorial, wasn’t he?’
‘Er – yes.’ Catherine desperately wanted to escape and began to look round for Felicity.
‘Anything the matter, Catherine? You look a bit pale.’ Terry noticed, belatedly, his companion’s discomfort.
‘I’m not used to crowds, Terry.’ Catherine tried a wan smile. ‘I’ve got a bit of a headache. I thought I might go home, if you don’t mind looking after Flicka?’
‘Oh, no. You’ve only just come.’ Terry looked horrified. ‘Look, come out into the conservatory, it’ll be quieter out there. I’ll see if I can find an aspirin or something.’
Catherine subsided. ‘All right, I’ll stay a bit longer,’ she agreed, allowing herself to be propelled through the hall and out to the conservatory, where it was, indeed, a good deal quieter, none of the guests as yet having penetrated this far. She sat down in a wicker chair, and Terry hurried off in search of his hostess and an aspirin.
A movement behind her made Catherine look round to see Felicity framed in the french windows.
‘He llo, Cat,’ she said quietly.
‘Hi,’ said Catherine, miserably.
Felicity walked over and went down on her haunches in front of her sister.
‘Terry been talking, has he?’ she asked.
<
br /> Catherine nodded, unable to trust her voice.
Felicity sighed gustily. ‘I didn’t know whether to tell you or not. After all, none of the gossip is gospel, it’s just hearsay.’
‘He knew and you knew, so it’s pretty widespread hearsay,’ Catherine managed shakily. ‘I wondered why you were trying to put me off.’
‘Look, it may not be true. After what you said about the shares and everything, it could be nothing more than business ...’ Felicity’s voice tailed off.
‘But you obviously don’t think it is,’ Catherine stated, more strongly.
‘I don’t know, Cat. I wish I did.’ Felicity shook her head.
Terry reappeared with a glass of water and a brown bottle.
‘Here,’ he said. ‘These’ll have you right in no time. Hallo, Flicka. Enjoying yourself?’
‘Yes, thanks, Terry.’ Felicity stood up and smiled brightly. ‘It’s great seeing so many old friends.’ She turned to Catherine. ‘If you want to go, Cat, just come and tell me.’
‘You don’t want to go, do you, Catherine?’ asked Terry, as Catherine dutifully swallowed two tablets to relieve the by now perfectly genuine headache.
‘I’ll see how I feel in a little while. Don’t worry about me, Terry. You go and enjoy yourself. I’ll get myself a taxi if I need to.’
Reluctantly, Terry allowed himself to be persuaded back to the party and Catherine was once more left alone.
Staring out at the dark, regimented, suburban garden, Catherine tried hard to convince herself that what she had heard wasn’t true. That James had moved into the old family home for convenience sake, that Colin Eddington had not been seen because he had deemed it politic to keep out of the way. But gossip was so often founded in fact, and both Terry and Felicity had heard it from presumably different sources. Catherine pressed her hot forehead against the cool glass and closed her eyes. Her head was pounding now; the aspirin had made no difference at all yet. Perhaps she should go home, after all. Try and get some sleep and then go up to London and talk to Andrew about it tomorrow. She turned and went in search of Felicity and the keys.
Felicity gave her the keys and telephoned for a taxi for her.
‘Are you sure you’ll be all right?’ she asked anxiously.
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