The floor moved suddenly, disconcertingly. Nell had forgotten that they were not on terra firma.
‘Tide’s coming in,’ Paul said, steadying himself.
‘High time we all went home,’ Hat announced. ‘These two young men are about dead on their feet, and we’re about to lose an hour of sleep on Sunday morning anyway, for the beginning of summer time.’ She began organising their departure.
‘Well, that’s why we had this party on Friday night,’ Paul explained, ‘to give us all time to recover.’ He went to turn on the deck lights.
‘Will you be collecting your children tomorrow?’ Nell asked Rob.
‘As ever,’ he said.
‘You have them every weekend?’
‘Yup.’
‘I’m glad I’ve met your father.’
‘Are you?’
‘Well, perhaps it might have been better if you hadn’t warned him …’ Nell hesitated, gesturing towards Elly, who was going forward with the coats.
‘No,’ Rob said, ‘It would have been even worse. Believe me, I know.’
‘Thanks so much for coming,’ Elly was saying to Bert. ‘It was lovely of you.’ She helped him on with his overcoat, all smiles. Then each one in turn climbed the stairs to the deck and crossed the gangplank to the shore, Nell last.
‘Bye, then,’ Rob called to everyone, ‘and thanks.’ He waited for his father to get into the Land Rover and then climbed in himself, waving through the open door as he drove off.
‘Look!’ Elly said to Nell as soon as they had gone, excitedly producing something small and white from a clenched hand. Isn’t this great? Brilliant party!’
‘What is it?’ she bent to look. It was Malachy Hayhoe’s business card.
‘He says I can phone, and go and talk to him in London,’ Elly said. ‘Isn’t that marvellous? I am so excited about it!’ She put an arm around Nell’s shoulders and squeezed them affectionately. ‘And Rob’s a sweetie too, isn’t he? I’m so glad you brought them both.’
‘Bloody hell!’ was all Nell could manage.
‘You look a bit glum?’ Anna said, as Nell came down the steps and joined her in the swimming pool. She’d been hoping that Nell would enliven her.
‘It’s how I feel,’ Nell said. She looked pale too.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘Oh, just Rob Hayhoe. As if you couldn’t guess.’
‘What’s he done?’
‘Nothing. That’s the problem. I never know where I am with him, and I feel as if I’ve been making all the running. I’ve absolutely no idea how he feels.’
‘Big mistake,’ Anna said. ‘You have to let men do all the chasing, or it emasculates them, the poor fragile things.’
‘Bit old-fashioned, surely.’
‘Basic human nature, I’m afraid.’
‘Well, I’ve decided to give up on Rob anyway. It clearly isn’t working.’
‘But you’ll see him again?’
‘I’m bound to, aren’t I? I’m buying his cottage.’
‘And that’s going all right?’ Anna rubbed the water out of her eyes.
‘Well, it needs some work doing on it, according to the survey, but nothing that can’t be fixed. I wish the estate agents and solicitors would get a move on though. I can’t see why it has to take so long.’
‘Always does,’ Anna said. She pushed her wet hair off her face with both hands and held it there at the nape of her neck.
‘Different earrings?’ Nell observed.
‘Yes. I seem to have mislaid one of my favourite ones. It’ll probably turn up next time I change my bed. Hope so, anyway. I’m not even sure exactly when I lost it, so I don’t know where to begin searching.’ Anna noticed that Nell was looking peculiar. Embarrassed. ‘What have I said?’
‘Nothing,’ Nell said at once. ‘Sorry, I was miles away.’
‘Do anything special last weekend?’
‘Yes, as it happens. I went to a party.’
‘And?’ Anna lay back with her head on the tiled edge, kicking her feet lazily.
‘And Rob and his father were there, and Paul and Elly, my friends from London.’
Paul and Elly…? Anna caught her breath, and then put on a carefully casual voice. ‘What sort of a party was this, then?’ She was conscious that Nell was regarding her steadily.
‘A house-warming party on their new houseboat in Eely Creek,’ she said. ‘It’s lovely.’
Shit! Anna thought, pretending to slip underwater by mistake, to escape Nell’s look. ‘Uhhh!’ she spluttered, surfacing. ‘What a berk, eh? I need Velcro or something on the back of my neck! Come on, let’s swim.’ She set off at a fast crawl; anything to keep her face out of sight whilst she gathered her thoughts. Shit, SHIT, SHIT! Had Nell guessed? No, why should she? But how on earth did she know Paul Tozer? Perhaps, Anna thought, I should ask her – just come straight out with it. But if she hasn’t twigged, that would be stupid, and I did promise Paul… No, I’ll just deny everything.
‘So, where’s this Eely Creek then?’ she asked Nell when they next stopped.
‘On the River Torrent, where my new cottage is, about ten miles east of here. Haven’t you ever been there?’
‘Not yet,’ Anna said, pleased at how firm a gaze she could muster. ‘Can you see the houseboats from your windows?’
‘No, there’s a bend in the river.’
‘Oh, right.’ Well, that’s a relief! Relax – it’s OK, she hasn’t realised. ‘Sounds good,’ she said carefully. ‘What’s the great Malachy Hayhoe like, then?’
Nell drove to work after swimming, in reflective mood. She was now sure that ‘the Boss’ and Paul were one and the same. It would explain a lot. But she didn’t recognise Elly in the catty ‘Ermintrude’ stories that Anna had told, and she felt thoroughly ashamed of herself now for ever having laughed at them. All her loyalties lay with Elly. Anna was only a recent acquaintance – barely a friend at all. Nell had been astonished at Anna’s confident lies, and felt quite unable to challenge them. She needed time for reflection. How should she play this? Should she tell Elly and precipitate a crisis, or should she go on seeing Anna and gather evidence on Elly’s behalf? If, as she thought, Anna didn’t know she’d been found out, then she, Nell, had the upper hand. It wasn’t something that appealed to her; she didn’t like that sort of game. Perhaps she should speak to Sibyl. Maybe Sibyl already knew that Paul was having an affair … I don’t want to upset everyone, Nell thought. Maybe I’ll just keep quiet and wait and see.
‘You’re looking a bit peaky,’ Sibyl said. ‘I’m afraid the party was a bit of a strain, wasn’t it?’
‘You’re the second person who’s mentioned that today. I do feel browned off actually.’
‘Give it time,’ Sibyl counselled. ‘These things have a habit of working out in their own way, you know.’ The telephone rang at the back of the shop, and she went to answer it. Then she came back, looking pleased. ‘What did I tell you?’ she said. ‘It’s Rob Hayhoe for you.’
‘Oh!’ Nell broke into a smile, and walked lightly over to pick up the receiver. ‘Hello, Rob.’
‘Oh, Nell,’ he sounded embarrassed. ‘I’m not sure how to say this. My agent is going to phone yours, but I thought I ought to warn you myself.’
‘What about?’
‘Well, it seems my original buyer is now back with a new purchaser for his place, and he’s claiming priority over you and saying the cottage is morally his because he offered for it first.’
‘But he backed out!’ Nell protested.
‘Yes, but through no fault of his own. And now he is in a position to proceed. He’s even upped his offer by several thou.’
‘But you’ve accepted my offer.’
‘Yes, but I’m obliged to “maximise the realisation of my assets”, as my solicitor so pompously puts it, in order to pay off my debts and support my children.’
‘So where does that leave me?’
‘Well… I suppose you couldn’t match his offer?’
‘Oh, come on!’ Nell said furiously. ‘How underhand can you get? It’s supposed to be unethical if I buy the cottage and pay less than him, but if I pay the same, then it magically becomes perfectly above board? What kind of twisted logic is that? It’s just extortion!’
‘That’s life, I’m afraid.’
‘Well, if that’s your attitude,’ Nell shouted, ‘then the whole thing stinks, and you can bloody well stuff it!’
Chapter Eight
Cassie sat at the kitchen table, the remains of breakfast strewn before her, and fiddled with her necklace. The cold green stones felt smooth, and steadying. She was getting more and more impatient about the time it was taking for Bottom Cottage to be sold. They needed to have it all settled now. Each day’s delay was costing her father money, and he didn’t hesitate to tell her so. She felt pressured from both sides. Rob didn’t seem to have a clue where his own finances were concerned. He never paid his bills until the red one arrived (sometimes not even then), and he was actively antagonistic to her need to sort things out speedily. Anyone less suited to being an accountant… Cassie shook her head in wonder.
But, for the moment at least, it was fortuitous that he still had the cottage. It was the first week of April and it would soon be Josh’s sixth birthday. Cassie had been busy trying to shame Rob into organising a party for him over the weekend – not that Rob could oversee a blowout in a cream bun factory, but Cassie felt it was about time he made the effort. She would do it herself, but she felt so exhausted all the time these days, and, anyway, it was his turn to do his duty by his son.
‘Perhaps Daddy will give you a birthday party at the cottage,’ she suggested to Josh.
‘I want my party here,’ he said at once.
‘Well, I don’t know, darling. It might not be possible.’
Josh burst into tears. ‘I want you to do it,’ he sobbed. ‘I don’t want –’
‘Oh Joshy …’ Cassie picked him up and held him to her, patting his back gently. ‘Come on, darling, it’s all right. We’ll work something out.’ She felt a tugging at the hem of her skirt. It was Rosie.
‘Up!’ she demanded.
‘Not at the moment, sweetie. Josh is upset. He needs a cuddle more than you do.’ Rosie stuck out her bottom lip and stumped off in a sulk. Cassie barely noticed. She was busy wiping Josh’s eyes and getting him to blow into a paper handkerchief.
‘I’ve got an idea,’ she said to him, sitting down with him on her lap, and stroking the hair out of his eyes.
‘What?’ His tears had already vanished. He looked guardedly hopeful.
‘I’ve got this friend, but it’s a secret, OK?’ Josh nodded. ‘She’s called Mic. You’ve met her once actually, but you probably don’t remember. Anyway, she’s going to come and live with us very soon. Now if you’re very nice to her, we might be able to do your party here. How’s that?’
‘Why can’t you and Daddy do it?’
‘Oh, Josh… I’ve explained that to you so many times.’ Cassie felt exasperated. ‘Daddy and I aren’t friends any more. It’s sad, but sometimes these things just happen. But you’ll like Mic, she’s good fun.’ Josh wriggled down from her lap without saying anything. ‘But she’s our secret, remember? Don’t say anything to Daddy, right?’ Josh made a little shrugging movement with his shoulders and turned away. Cassie sighed. ‘Where’s Rosie?’ she asked him. ‘Why don’t you go and see what she’s doing?’ Josh went out.
A few minutes later, Cassie glanced out of the bedroom window with her arms full of dirty linen, and saw both children in the back garden with no coats on. Josh was going round the central flowerbed with a stick, and systematically smashing the heads off her favourite pink daffodils. Rosie was running behind him, cackling with laughter. Cassie dropped the laundry and rushed to open a window.
‘Joshua! Stop that, at once!’
Josh defiantly bashed one more head off, and then threw the stick down. Rosie bumbled forwards gleefully and picked it up.
‘What were you doing that for?’ Cassie cried. ‘Spoiling Mummy’s lovely flowers! It’s a wicked thing to do. Rosie, that means you too. Stop it!’ Rosie, in attempting to emulate her big brother, swung the stick, missed the daffodils entirely and hit Josh on the knee. He immediately started howling with hurt and rage and pushed Rosie over, so she bumped her head on the lawn and began screaming too.
‘Oh God!’ Cassie swore, slamming the window shut and rushing downstairs to sort them out. ‘Bloody kids. The sooner Mic gets here, the better!’
Once in the garden she picked Rosie up, ticking her off at the same time, and then she crouched down to roll up the leg of Josh’s dungarees to inspect his knee. It looked red and swollen.
‘Come on,’ she said, giving him a kiss and covering the knee up again. She got to her feet and led him indoors by the hand, followed by Rosie. Cassie shut the door behind the three of them, and then turned to her children smiling brightly. ‘We’ll put some witch hazel on poor Josh’s bruise first, OK? And then we’ll all have some lovely chocolate, yes?’
She well remembered that she had said, less than an hour before and very firmly, that there would be no sweets before lunchtime because it would spoil their appetites, but with children one had to be pragmatic. Whatever the so-called child-care experts said, it was impossible always to be consistent. After all, rules were made to be broken.
*
In his heart of hearts Rob knew that Nell was right about the ethics of the whole house-buying muddle. She had refused to gazump his first buyer, and now it seemed the man was gazumping her, and he was conniving in it. Worse still, Rob didn’t even like him! He was a city gent with a dreamy longing for peace, nature and solitude, the sort of ideals a realist must first translate into their equally valid antitheses: boredom, vermin and loneliness, before deciding to opt for them full time. Rob could tell the man hadn’t even begun to consider this. Nell, on the other hand, struck him as a thoroughly sensible, practical person. He would like to think of her living there. He knew she would appreciate it.
What am I playing at? he thought. I can sell to whomever I please. What’s a few thousand pounds? He lifted the telephone receiver and picked out the number of his estate agent. He knew he was doing the right thing and he felt better at once.
On the tiredly awaited day, Cassie was about to go downstairs with an armful of Rosie’s wet sheets, when she glanced through the round window on the landing and saw two figures getting off a bus outside. The woman, in jeans and a bomber jacket, was holding on to a sturdy little ginger-headed boy, and was being handed down a large rucksack and a bulging holdall by another passenger.
Thank Christ for that! Cassie thought. Mic’s here.
Mic had come round three weeks before to see the house, leaving Gavin with her mother. She came in the evening when Josh and Rosie were in bed, and was taken upstairs to view them asleep. Josh was lying on his back with his arms up above his head. In the glow from the nightlight his skin looked peachy and perfect, the long eyelashes curling upwards, his breathing regular and even.
‘Little angel, in’t he?’ Mic whispered, and Cassie warmed to her.
In the next room, Rosie was all curled up under her duvet, with only the top of her head showing.
‘How old is she?’ Mic asked.
‘She’ll be four on the twenty-sixth,’ Cassie whispered back.
‘Taurus, eh? I expect she knows her own mind.’
‘You can say that again!’
Cassie took Mic upstairs to the attic. ‘Rob used to do woodwork and things up here,’ she said, ‘but I thought we could clear it out, and maybe paint it up a bit when you get here. There’s even a loo through there. I think it must have been a separate bedsitter once.’
Mic looked about her. ‘Oh yeah, and there’s a sink too, where we can wash paintbrushes out, and that big table’d be good too.’
‘It belongs to Rob,’ Cassie said, ‘but he’s not getting it back.’
‘Could do with more chairs,’
Mic said, ‘and maybe a sofa or two?’
‘We could go to a furniture auction,’ Cassie suggested, getting enthusiastic. ‘I haven’t been to one for ages. It would be fun!’
‘Great,’ Mic said.
They went down two flights of stairs into the kitchen, and sat at the dining end with one glass of dry white wine and one sweet sherry.
‘Cheesy bic?’ Cassie offered.
‘Oooh, thanks.’ Mic took three. She demolished the first in two bites, and then proffered the jar. ‘You?’
‘No thanks,’ Cassie said. ‘I don’t.’
‘That the cooker?’ Mic asked, nodding towards it and corralling biscuit crumbs into a neat pile on the table in front of her.
‘Yes it is. It’s an Aga and it’s marvellous.’
“Cos I’d need to give them a hot meal, dinnertime. It’s part of the regulations.’
‘That’s fine,’ Cassie said. ‘I only cook in the evenings, and then as little as possible. So, what do you think?’
Mic’s grin animated her whole body. ‘I think I musta died and gone to ‘eaven!’ she said, and she drained her sherry with a flourish.
And now here they were at last. Cassie dropped the sheets in a heap on the floor, and ran downstairs to open the front door.
‘Hi,’ Mic said. She looked both hopeful and nervous. ‘This is it, then.’ She turned to her son, who was dragging the holdall along the ground towards the door. ‘Say “Hello, Cassie”, Gavin.’ The boy ignored her.
‘Hello again, Gavin,’ Cassie said. He’s probably overawed, she thought. Not used to a house as big as this. She tried an easy question. ‘How old are you, then?’
‘Go on, Gav,’ Mic encouraged him.
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