The Mill House

by Susan Lewis

  being here that she really didn't want to think about at all.

  'I'm surprised he never pointed them out when he was telling me about you,' Fen remarked. 'He presumably had them then.'

  Julia shrugged. 'Another mystery waiting to be solved,' she said quietly.

  Fen waggled her eyebrows. 'Never could resist one of those,' she said, and they both smiled.

  'So, do you want to see the main bedroom?' Fen said, 'It's in through here.' and going past the fireplace, she pulled a curtain back from a door, and walked on in. 'Oh, dear Tilde,' she murmured fondly, as Julia joined her. 'Fresh flowers and potpourri, and Gwen's best white lacy linens, because that's what Gwen would have wanted.'

  'It's lovely,' Julia said, taking in the king-size wrought-iron bedstead, antique pine furniture, and plush burgundy carpet that matched the velvet curtains. 'I take it that opens into an attic,' she said, looking up at a small trapdoor.

  'Correct. There's quite a bit up there, so it should keep you busy for a while.'

  Julia gave her a look and once again they smiled.

  'There's no bathroom up here, I'm afraid,' Fen said, 'which is mainly why we moved Dougie downstairs at the end. Obviously you can sleep down there too, if you'd prefer, but it's so beautifully cosy up here, don't you think?'

  'Exactly where you'd want Prince Charming to find you,' Julia teased.

  Fen laughed. 'I'll try to make sure it's not David who comes to the rescue,' she said, 'because I promise, that really would be a let-down since he's gay. He only came out a couple of years ago, actually, a bit of a blow for Mum and Dad, but they're slowly beginning to accept it now, and Charles, his partner, is an absolute sweetheart. He taught Dougie to surf last summer. You should have seen the pair of them, out there in the waves, struggling with the boards. Dougie never quite got the knack, but he was a star the way he tried. Put Daddy to shame, I can tell you, largely because Daddy didn't feel comfortable about being around someone like Charles without many clothes on. I ask you. As if anyone would fancy him, the great lump. Love him to bits, of course, but he's still a great lump.'

  Julia was laughing.

  Fen gave her a wink and started back into the sitting room. 'Shall I help you bring your things in?' she offered, apparently taking it for granted that Julia had decided to stay.

  'I don't have much,' Julia told her. 'I might ask Josh to bring more when he comes on Saturday. Shannon has a ten-day half-term this time, and right now I'm thinking we'll probably spend the whole time here.' Quite what Josh would make of that when she told him she had no idea, nor was she certain that she really would stay for so long. All she knew for the moment was that she loved it here already, and since Sylvia was going to be in New York next week, and Josh would be sailing with Dan, there seemed no reason for her not to take at least a few days to try and recover from the blows of the past forty-eight hours.

  After Fen left, half an hour or so later, Julia wandered back inside the house intending to go

  upstairs and take a nap before joining Fen's family for dinner. However, she found herself coming to a halt at the kitchen table where they'd spent the past half an hour chatting over a cup of tea and some digestive biscuits. As she stood there staring down at the delicate pieces of china and scattered crumbs, she was trying to recall what they'd discussed, but for some reason she couldn't. It didn't matter though. None of it had been important, except in the way she'd felt so comfortable with Fen. She wondered if she'd ever needed a friend more, but she wasn't about to saddle a stranger with her problems, no matter how kind and compassionate Fen clearly was. She thought of Pauline, but knew she'd never turn to her, she was far too close to Sylvia, and had very likely known about the affair all along, which, to Julia's mind, made her almost as guilty. And as for Sylvia ... Even to think of her made Julia stiffen with loathing, and she could only feel thankful that the bitch hadn't had the guts to be in touch these past twenty- four hours, because Julia was a very long way from ready to deal with her yet, in fact were she to see Sylvia now, feeling as she did, she shuddered at the thought of what she might do.

  She kept wondering which of them had started the affair, who'd actually had the gall to suggest it would be the best way to save Josh's marriage. Just to think of it stirred such a fury inside her that she wanted to lash out at Josh with all her might. How could he have been so stupid, or blind, or self-deceiving ever to think that screwing another woman would do anything but damage, or even destroy his marriage? And that he'd chosen Sylvia

  Holland, her so-called best friend, the woman he'd always been so afraid would influence Julia away from him, was something that could drive her insane with rage.

  Too exhausted to keep the anger going, she took herself upstairs to look at the photos of Shannon and Dan again, for right now, they felt like the only good and true part of her life. Picking them up from the window sill, she gazed down at their innocent young faces, a sublime mix of her and Josh, and felt such a build-up of love that the longing to hold them was hard to bear. How could he have done it, she kept asking herself. Hadn't he thought about the children? Did it matter so much to have sex that he'd put it before everything else? Or maybe he was so obsessed with Sylvia, the way so many men had been over the years, that he wouldn't let anything stand in the way. The fear of that tore so cruelly at her heart, that her eyes filled with tears. What if he couldn't give Sylvia up? What if it had gone so far now that he was willing to pay the ultimate price to have her?

  Turning from the window, as though to escape her own torment, she carried the photographs to the sofa and sank wearily into it. For a moment the allowed her eyes to close, then quite suddenly they were open again. She kept seeing them together, bodies entwined in the throes of passion, Josh's mouth on Sylvia's, his hands on her skin She knew how he looked at each moment, how he felt and touched, how he kissed and was able to give more pleasure than probably even Sylvia had ever known. She started to

  choke. She couldn't stand it, she just couldn't. She needed him to be here now, swearing it had meant nothing and that he'd already given her up. But even so, he'd never be able to erase the fact that it had happened, it would be with them for ever now. Though there was no doubt in her mind that she still loved him, this had changed things between them, and in a way that was frightening her almost as much as the dread of him leaving.

  In another effort to put it from her mind, she reached for a photo of her father and sat staring into his softly twinkling eyes. The two most important men in her life, and both had let her down so badly that she couldn't even begin to think where that left her now. She was so tired that she soon gave up trying, and after a while she could feel herself sinking into the wonderfully soothing air of calm that seemed to exude from the walls of this house. If only she could stay here for ever and forget about everything, but just as she was drifting into the sublime release of sleep, her mobile started to ring downstairs. Suspecting it was Josh, she was tempted to ignore it, but if it was the children they'd only worry if she didn't answer, and since it probably wouldn't help to start avoiding Josh anyway, she pulled herself up and ran down the stairs.

  'Hi, it's me,' he said when she answered.

  'Hi,' she responded.

  'How's it going down there?' 'OK.'

  'Shannon tells me you went to the chapel of rest. Was that OK?'

  'It WAS hand, but I didn't expect it to be easy. Did you negotiate a good film deal?'

  'Still a few things to be ironed out, but it's not bad. Where are you now?'

  'At my father's house. I'll be staying here. There's probably a phone, I'll give you the number when I find it.'

  'What's it like?'

  'The house? Very nice. You'll see it on Saturday, if you're still coming.'

  'Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?'

  'I just wondered if you might have plans to go to New York.'

  He sighed. 'No, I don't have plans to go to New York, you know what I'm doing.'

  Taking the phone with her, she walk
ed back upstairs and returned to the sofa.

  'You sound tired,' he told her.

  'I am.'

  'How did it go with the solicitor?'

  'Fine.' She knew he was waiting for her to expand, but she didn't.

  'This is like pulling teeth,' he said irritably.

  'Well, I'm sorry if you're finding it difficult,' she replied, 'but frankly, I don't know what I want to say to you right now. I could have done with your support when I found out he was dead, and it would have helped if you'd been there with me today...'

  'How the hell can both of us just take off and leave the children?'

  'Don't speak to me like that, Josh. You don't have the right to be angry after what you've done.'

  He fell silent, and as the seconds ticked on she

  gazed at the rain on the window and felt a terrible sadness welling up inside her. 'Do you have any understanding at all of what I'm going through?' she asked him. 'You've lost your own father, so surely you can remember what that was like. And what great leap of imagination would it take to work out how you'd feel if I'd been sleeping with another man?'

  'First, my father was a constant in my life,' he responded. 'Second ...'

  'So you think, because my father left me all those years ago, that it doesn't hurt as much to lose him? Is that what you're saying?'

  'If I'm wrong, tell me.'

  'You're wrong. You see, it's not only his death I'm mourning, it's all those lost years. The memories we'll never have.'

  There was a note of contrition in his voice as he said, 'OK, I'm sorry.'

  She let her eyes drift to her father's face, then on around the room as she tried to imagine him here, and even wondered if, on some otherworldly level, he was. What would he tell her to do now? Would he know how she should resolve this with Josh?

  'The children are breaking up today,' Josh reminded her. 'They should be at home soon.'

  'I'll call them. Is your mother there?'

  'Yes.'

  'Have you told her about Sylvia?'

  'Don't be ridiculous.'

  Anger flashed in her eyes. 'That's how it might seem to you,' she snapped, 'to me it seems like deceit and betrayal.'

  His voice was equally as tight as he said, 'Do you think now's the right time to be having this conversation?'

  'It's a shame we have to have it at all.'

  'Jesus Christ, I don't know what to say to you, Julia. I'm sorry it happened, OK? I'm sorry you had to find out, and I'm even sorrier we got to a point where I needed to do it.'

  Ordinarily she might have exploded at that, but right now she simply didn't have it in her, so in a coldly cutting voice she said, 'You're right, Josh, now isn't the time to be having this conversation, but let me tell you this, when we do finally talk we won t get anywhere if you don't start accepting that you are responsible for your actions, not me. It was you who screwed Sylvia, you who lied to me. There was nothing dishonest in my behaviour towards you. I couldn't help what was happening to me ...'

  'But you didn't even try to do anything about it.'

  'That still doesn't make it my fault that you cheated on me. Anyway, we're not achieving anything here, so I'm going to ring off now.'

  Without a word of objection he said a terse goodbye, and after hearing the line go dead, she clicked off her own phone and let her head fall back against the cushions. She could easily picture his face now, taut with anger, lips pale, struggling to keep his temper in check as he tried to get on with his work.

  She hadn't told him anything about Fen, she realised, or about her father, or the will, or even the photographs of Shannon and Dan. Nor, she

  had to admit, did she want to. It wasn't that she was deliberately shutting him out, she just didn't know how to open up and let him in. It was scaring her to think that she'd started rejecting him on another level now, because she didn't want that to happen. She loved him, and was desperate not to lose him, but she was seeing him so differently now, for there was no doubt the deceit had somehow diminished him. He was no longer the man she'd always respected and looked up to, the man who'd never failed to put her and the children first, who'd been the very centre of their lives. Now what she saw was a stubborn and selfish man, who'd let his basic physical urges come before everything she'd always believed he valued most.

  Chapter Seven

  It was sunlight streaming in through the curtains, that finally woke Julia the next morning, and the sound of voices outside. Having slept so deeply it took her a moment to recall where she was. As it came back to her she could only wish herself asleep again, for it seemed the more time that went by, the harder it was becoming to cope with what Josh had done. Then, remembering it was the funeral today, and that she owed the Bowers an apology for failing to make dinner last night after falling asleep on the sofa, she pushed back the covers and swung her feet to the floor.

  For one alarming moment she thought she was going to faint, and dropped her head between her knees She'd had virtually nothing to eat since the sandwich yesterday, and couldn't say she felt particularly hungry now, but she knew she should have something, for she certainly didn't want to black out at the funeral.

  Wondering what the time was, she started out to the sitting room, and was just picking up her

  mobile when the sound of voices reached her again. Going to the window she opened the curtains a fraction and saw two men outside, standing next to the Porsche, apparently inspecting it, one quite elderly, the other much younger. Suspecting the older man was Fen's father, she quickly dragged on her jeans and a T-shirt and ran downstairs to introduce herself.

  Her first attempts to get outside were hampered by the locked French doors. She looked around for the key, unable to think where she'd put it, for she didn't even remember locking up. Spotting it on the doormat, she snatched it up and let herself out onto the porch just as the two men approached the steps. The older man smiled at her.

  'Hello,' she gasped, trying to tidy her hair with her fingers. 'You must be Mr Bower, Fen's father. I'm Julia Thayne. It's a pleasure to meet you.'

  'Likewise,' he responded in a deep, plummy voice that managed to convey as much friendliness as his rich hazel eyes. He was tall and portly, and there was a sprightliness to his greying amber hair that made it the obvious forerunner to Fen's fiery crinkles. 'And please call me Peter,' he added, shaking her hand. 'This is my nephew, Mauricio, or Rico, as we call him. He's visiting us from Italy.'

  'How do you do,' Rico said, leaning forward to take her hand. 'I am very pleased to meet Dougie's daughter.'

  'Hello,' she said, seeing immediately what Fen had meant about how good-looking he was, for those dark brooding eyes would certainly get most women's pulses racing, as would that impossibly sensuous mouth. There was something about him,

  she realised, that was reminding her of Josh, though he was neither as tall nor as well built, so maybe it was just the darkness of the hair, or more likely the powerful aura of maleness that she knew so well in her husband. She even found herself taintly responding to it, and regretting the way she must look, which was absurd when he'd hardly be interested in someone her age, nor did she have the remotest wish to complicate her life to any greater degree than it already was.

  Turning back to Peter Bower she said, 'I'm so sorry I didn't make it over last night. I dropped off, and it was so late when I woke...'

  'Please, please,' he interrupted, waving her apology away. 'You were exhausted, which is quite understandable, so we guessed what had happened. Fen popped over around seven, just to check on you, and found you zizzing away peacefully on the sofa, so she locked the door and posted the key through. I trust you had a good night.'

  'Very,' she replied. 'I don't even know what the time is now.'

  He checked his watch. 'Almost ten,' he told her. RiCO and I thought we'd stroll over to see if you need anything. Actually, my wife sent us, she wanted to get us out of the way, so if you've got a cup of coffee on offer ...'

  'Oh, yes, of course. Please
come in.'

  Once back inside she looked around the kitchen, wondering where everything was.

  'Why don't you let me?' Peter suggested. 'I know this kitchen better than my own, since I've been allowed in it more often.'

  Julia smiled and glanced at Rico, and as their

  eyes met, she was aware of the shyness Fen had mentioned, for he seemed almost embarrassed to have been discovered looking at her.

  'Dougie tried to arrange today,' Peter was telling her, as he filled the coffee-maker with water. 'He had it all planned out - a quiet ceremony, just family ...' He broke off. 'I hope you don't mind that he thought of us that way.'

  'No, of course not,' she assured him.

  'He was the best friend I ever had,' he continued. 'Like a brother, in a way, but without all the nonsense that happens when blood's involved.' He shook his head, as though in wonderment at such an excellent relationship. Then his eyes came back to hers. 'Just can't work out why he never told me about you,' he said. 'In all the years we knew each other, he never once mentioned that he'd been married before, or had any children. Can't imagine why he kept it to himself. Keep asking myself if Gwen knew, but if she did she never mentioned it either.'

  Realising how hurt he was by her father's failure to confide in him, and that he was hoping she'd be able to explain it, Julia said, 'I'm not sure what happened when he left my mother, but I think it was so painful that neither of them was ever really able to talk about it.'

  'She never told you?'

  Julia shook her head.

  Looking more mystified than ever, he returned to his coffee-making, and without thinking Julia glanced at Rico again. This time it was her turn to feel embarrassed, for though he appeared to be reading the slogan on the front of her T-shirt which

  merely said St Tropez, she realised it must be perfectly apparent that she'd not taken the time to put on a bra. She turned quickly away, not wanting him to know that he'd been caught looking, or to see the way her nipples were automatically responding.

  'As I was saving,' Peter continued, 'Dougie tried to plan it all out for today, a small affair, just us, and Tilde.' He chuckled as he spooned coffee grounds into a filter. 'I told him he didn't stand a chance of that, and it turns out I'm right. The crematorium is going to be packed, and Laura, my wife, is over there panicking about whether she's catered for enough people. The vicar's been on the phone already this morning, still not able to decide who should do the readings. He doesn't want to hurt anyone's feelings, but he's had so many requests if he grants them all we could find ourselves there until Monday, he informs me.'