He couldn’t perform in bed, of course. Not perform as such. But it was a treat to let Stella take him out of his clothes and swing his legs into the bed. She shucked off her own kit so that he could admire her generous little body for the first time in months, then lay down beside him, running deliciously smooth hands over his hurts. ‘Poor you!’ she exclaimed. ‘Poor, poor, Gareth. You’re still bruised. And I don’t think your face is entirely right yet, is it? Oh my God, is that where that thing went into your hip? Eeouw! You’ve had so much pain, darling.’
They spent the rest of the day in bed. Dear Stella, she realised he wasn’t up to sexual acrobatics, not yet. But she did one or two very nice things for him. Including making him egg, bacon and chips.
Finally, he was ready for her to switch off the bedroom television and the light and give him a bit of space so that he could sleep.
‘When I’m a bit better,’ he said, drowsily, deciding that the settling-down-together glow was a good time to broach a fresh start. ‘I’ll move back into the cottage. Will you come, too, darling? Live with me full time?’
Stella stopped stroking his bad leg. ‘Live with you at the cottage?’
‘We could be happy there. It would be fantastic if every day was like this one.’
Stella removed her hand. She inched away. ‘Fantastic for you, maybe. I don’t need a job. And certainly not as a housekeeper.’
He laughed, without opening his eyes. Stella had a great sense of humour. ‘I’m not offering you a job as my housekeeper. I think a little more of you than that.’
Still, she kept her distance. ‘So we’re going to get married.’ Her voice was flat.
In the darkness, his eyes flew open. He tried to answer as though she hadn’t just frightened him to death. ‘Not unless you’ve completely changed your tune about all that “marriage is a prison for women” stuff. We’ll live together in the cottage. It’s what everyone does these days. Marriage – who needs it?’
Stella rolled further over to her side of the bed. It was a big bed, king size, plenty of space. ‘But prisoners always know where they are and what’s what, don’t they? I have changed my tune because I need that kind of security. I’m suddenly in the mood for commitment. I’m not going to live with you, Gareth, so that I can look after you for free and you can chuck me next time it’s expedient.’
‘That’s not what I mean,’ he began, alarmed.
‘No? Not bloody much. I’m up to your caper, Gareth Jenner. This is my home and this is where I’m going to live, no-one to look after me and no-one to look after. And I’ve got to go to work tomorrow so you’ll have to watch the telly.’
Watching the telly while Stella went out into the world as usual? Gareth had envisaged something altogether cosier. That she’d help him wash and they’d laugh over the warm sudsy water. Stella had always liked doing things for him; she’d help him with his physio and fire up her laptop to begin all his change of address letters. She was sweet about things like that.
Across the dark divide of the bed, he reached out to run his fingers coaxingly down her ribs to her hip. ‘But if you come live with me you won’t have to work, I’ve left Diane for you –’
‘You’ve left Diane but I doubt that it was for me.’ She sighed gustily, but her voice was hard. ‘You can stay here for a few days, but tomorrow we’ll discuss how we’re going to organise things. I suppose I’d better get up early to catch the supermarket while it’s quiet before work, because you eat like a horse. We can split the bill when I get home. And then you can either marry me and treat me properly or fuck off to your own place.’
In the following icy silence, Gareth stared up into the darkness in astonishment. Stella was giving him the flick! Astonishment gave way to dismay. He pictured his new life in his nice cottage – but alone. A pretty chilly prospect. One by one the women in his life had deserted him. Valerie had gone for all time and Diane was almost as unreachable, bloody woman. Bryony, his Bryony, was hurt and wary. Well, buggered if he was going to let Stella push him away, too.
Him and Stella could be good together. Stella would bring warmth and affection to his life, a life that, suddenly, was in danger of becoming a bit bloody bleak.
Awkwardly, painfully, he dragged himself over to where she clung frigidly to the mattress edge and eased her reluctant body against his. ‘Marrying you is going to be a lot of fun, Stella. A woman who tells me to fuck off when I’m out of order has got to be good for me.’
By degrees, he felt her body soften and curve around his. ‘All right, I’ll marry you but remember I’ve taken all the shit I’m taking from you. And I’ve been one of your little secrets for too long, too. If you want us to be an item you have to tell your brothers and your daughter that we are.’ She thought for a moment. ‘And your wife.’
‘Yeah?’ He paused, turning her words over in his mind. ‘Yeah, I could. I will, Stell. We’ll start out with everything in the open. Married life without subterfuge and secrets.’
He didn’t know, as Stella snuggled up contentedly at his side, whether he could ever get used to such a marriage. But, there was no harm done by going along with Stell for now.
Divorces took a year or two, didn’t they?
Diane lay awake.
There was no moonlight and, because the house stood on a country lane, no street lights.
She stared up into the complete darkness and hugged herself with joy.
It had been a shock to come back from Freddy’s and find Gareth already gone. He’d left a note in Bryony’s room that Bryony had read but not shared with Diane.
And, ever since, relief kept breaking over her like a benign and gentle wave.
She. Was. Free.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Tamzin’s palms sweated and her legs felt as if they’d been filled with sand.
Seated on the edge of her bed, she stared at George as if he’d just turned into a monster.
George, in fact, was alight with joy, beaming, fizzing with energy as he strode around. ‘It’s just amazin’, Tamz. A-fuckin’-mazin’. Hamburg! Gigs in clubs in Hamburg. The scout who’s offered us it has watched us three times and we didn’t know. It’s such an opportunity. I can’t believe it. My dad says I can’t go, but I’m going, obviously.’
She unfroze her lips. ‘What about the others. Are they all going?’
‘’Course! Erica, Marty and Rob are taking a year out of uni, like me. We’ve got to totally take this opportunity, Tamz.’ He threw himself down at her feet and hooked his warm hands around her legs. ‘If we didn’t take it we’d, like, kick ourselves for the rest of our lives.’
Her throat had turned to sandpaper. ‘How will you survive, financially?’
‘No idea. We get paid, of course, but it’s bound to be difficult. Most of the bands out there have part-time jobs in bars and stuff while they’re getting established. The agent helps you find digs.’ He leapt up and began to pace again, fizzing with joy, too hyped to contain himself.
‘So you speak German?’
He paused. ‘Um … no. I’m going to get one of those language discs and learn, though. I expect we’ll all learn. We’ll have to, won’t we?’ And he pulled her up off the bed and into his arms and whirled her around the bedroom.
Her legs moved stiffly like a peg doll’s, her heart as still as glue. She wanted to fling herself onto the bed and have a two-year-old’s tantrum, letting the awfulness of one grief upon another press her down into the quilt. He would have to stop whizzing her round or she was going to be sick. Sick from grief and disappointment. The disappointment was the worst. Because she’d really thought … She’d honestly believed – that he loved her. Even losing her mum was less hideous than it could be, with George around.
George yanked her against his chest, laughing, staggering dizzily. He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. ‘Will you come with me, Tamz?’
Six words – and her heart unglued itself with a joyous thud. ‘With you? With the band?’ Her voice squeaked.
‘Yeah. I know it’s selfish but I don’t want to leave you behind. I don’t know when I’ll get back to visit, I don’t think I’m going to have much time or money and we’ve got to rehearse and write new stuff and everything. I might not come back for months. For years. You could try it for a month, couldn’t you? See if you like it.’ He was coaxing, now. ‘You could always come back, we’d find the money somehow.’
‘I’ve got money,’ she pointed out, dazed. ‘I can speak German. I learned to speak German at school. It’s a lovely, easy language. I can be useful.’
‘Ja! Gut!’ George roared. And began again to whiz her around.
And, this time, Tamzin’s heart whizzed, too.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Diane had left a message on his phone, last night. ‘I’ve got something to tell you!’
But James hadn’t returned her call because he wanted the excuse to turn up at her house.
The lack of Valerie had taken some getting used to. It was like having an abscessed tooth out – the unanaesthetised surgery had cured the fiery pain but he’d had to get used to the gap it left. And he knew that there was a ‘decent period’ meant to pass before bereaved spouses moved their lives on. But he was so desperate to see Diane. Just to see her. He’d make do with that.
He’d enquire after Gareth’s health and ask her advice about Harold’s worrying colour. That would be perfectly OK.
Even with Val gone, Harold and Gareth were family.
Diane swung the door open at his knock and beamed with reassuring joy. ‘James!’ Her hair, unbound, flowed over one shoulder like winter sunshine and her T-shirt’s neckline was low enough to grab his attention. His heart stirred into a rapid boop-de-boop.
Far from being annoyed that he’d swanned up without notice, she grabbed his hands and fairly dragged him across the threshold. ‘I’ve got so much to tell you.’
He took in her flush of excitement. ‘The new business plan went down OK with the bank?’ he guessed.
‘The what? Oh yes, and the bank’s up for it. I read so much in the papers about the big bad banks not lending businesses any money these days, that I was quaking by the time I got there. But they’re increasing the loan on the business account for Diane Jenner Originals and giving me an overdraft in case I need it. Which I shouldn’t. They’re happy because I have firm orders and my margins stack up, my cash flow’s realistic and … oh, I can’t remember all the business-speak. Just that they said yes.’
She looked so bright-eyed and beautiful that he risked a soft hello kiss on her cheek. ‘Fantastic.’
‘That’s not even the biggest news, amazing things have been happening.’ She thrust him down into one of the old kitchen chairs as she danced through the ritual of making coffee in a brass-topped cafetière and hardly drew breath in her description of the meeting with the bank and how she was rearranging the workroom and had bought a new machine that would be delivered on Monday along with a work table. And she was going to interview someone. ‘I’ve never interviewed anybody in my life.’
When she was finally sitting opposite him, the steam from their coffee rising between them, he managed a foothold in the conversation. ‘Are Bryony and Gareth here?’
She grinned. ‘No, neither of them. Bryony’s out with George and Tamzin, apparently. She’s picking up her old life, which I think is a good thing. She was a tiny bit jealous to come home and find George so besotted with Tamzin and the band happy with their new drummer, but she’s getting her head around it, now the baby is well on the way. And Gareth … I’ve got to tell you about Gareth, James –’
His mind seized on the incredible fact that she seemed to be alone in the house. ‘But he’s not here? Nobody’s here?’
‘Just me, but, listen – ’
All the pent-up tension and guilt, the pain over his daughters and his father-in-law in their grief, gurgled away at the news that Diane was alone. For just a little while he could have her to himself. His hands slid across to take hers and he drew her over the tabletop so that he could kiss her gentle mouth. ‘Diane,’ he murmured, against her lips.
She answered with a kiss of her own, parting her soft lips and sucking his tongue into her mouth in a way that scorched straight down to his groin. He found himself straining over the damned table, the edge digging into his lower ribs. He half-stood, hunching over to maintain the contact as he inched around the table and she turned in mid-air as he lifted her up until somehow he was taking her chair and pulling her astride himself. It felt so fantastic to have her body against his that he let common sense flee the scene without compunction. Her arms and legs wound around him and he buried his head against the softness of her neck, aroused in a heartbeat, breathing her in, his lips on her warm skin, feeling her hands caressing his shoulders. His hands fitted themselves naturally to the curves of her buttocks and his thumbs stroked the fine skin between her waistband and her top. ‘You feel fantastic.’
He shifted his mouth to the soft skin in the V of her T-shirt, tracing her cleavage with his tongue tip. He groaned, and let his hands slide up her ribs, feeling the shapes beneath her skin, bunching the fabric, bulldozing it with his hands until he had a nice expanse of bare Diane. ‘You taste good, too. And smell good. I want you like crazy.’
‘James –!’ Her voice was husky but not horrified. It was enough encouragement. He ran his hands all over her naked flesh as if frightened she’d suddenly come to her senses and push him away.
‘James, I have to tell you –’
Her bra was blue and made of some silky stuff and he was successful with the clasp first time. He flicked the fabric aside, she spilled out into his face and he sucked her into his mouth. ‘Oh – !’ She stopped talking. She groaned.
And the door burst open.
‘Mum, I’ve brought – Oh!’ Bryony stopped dead.
‘Shit!’ Diane yanked down her top and James whipped away his hands and mouth as if her breasts had grown teeth.
‘– Tamzin and George home,’ Bryony finished, lamely.
Diane bounded to her feet, eyes huge with horror and, helplessly, James rose to stand at her side.
‘Oh. My. God.’ said Tamzin, faintly, from the doorway. Her eyes, fixed on James, were horrified. Bewildered. Accusing. Hurt.
James felt pinned to the spot by her repugnance. ‘Tamz,’ he croaked.
George, behind Tamzin, murmured, ‘Amazin’.’
Tamzin’s freckles stood out like tiny wounds against her pale skin. ‘Dad, what about Mum? Oh, poor Mum! She’s hardly been – Did she know?’
His lips felt as if they didn’t belong to him. ‘She didn’t know. Nobody knew. We were trying hard not to let it happen.’ He took a step towards Tamzin, wanting to hug away the pain he’d just caused her. But he halted when Tamzin took a step back. If only she hadn’t come in exactly then – or, for that matter, any time in the next hour – he wouldn’t have hurt her. However much he’d wanted Diane he wouldn’t have allowed his lust for her to hurt Tamzin.
In slow motion, Tamzin turned her gaze to Diane. ‘You, Diane. You!’
‘Mum!’ said Bryony, on a long, scandalised breath.
First Bryony and then Tamzin bumped down into kitchen chairs.
James felt like hell. He wished he hadn’t given in to the yearning to see Diane. All their lives he’d filtered situations to protect his three daughters, but this time he was the cause of Tamzin’s pain. Apologies dried in his throat like breadcrumbs. He had no idea how to begin to explain that people stayed with bad marriages because they had to, even when they wanted someone else all the time. And occasionally gave in to the wanting.
It was Diane who tried, blue eyes burning with distress. ‘I’m sorry. We tried. We both meant to hang in there with our less-than-ideal marriages, we took that decision. But, today …’
She stumbled to a halt.
Tamzin buried her head in her hands. ‘Daddy. How could you?’
Tentatively, James slid an arm around her thin shoulders
, hating himself. Was aware, with another part of his mind, of Bryony and Diane speaking in low voices. Of Diane justifying, explaining.
Bryony staring at her mother as if she’d never seen her before.
With a cursory wipe of her eyes, Tamzin jerked away from James. ‘Right. Well. We have some news of our own. I don’t suppose there’s any point breaking it to you gently, now.’
Her reddened eyes were suddenly filled with purpose, and even defiance, as she looked from her father to Diane. ‘Jenneration has been offered the opportunity to play the venues in Hamburg. You know, like The Beatles did. George is taking a gap year so he can go.
‘And I’m going with him.’
‘You can’t.’ The automatic objection was out before James could stop it.
‘I can.’ Tamzin pulled away from him.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Diane was aware of Tamzin hurling her bombshell at James and of James turning to stone.
But most of her attention was on poor, bewildered Bryony. ‘Sweetie, I’m sorry you had to find out like this. Well, to be honest, I wasn’t even certain that there was anything to find out. We’ve tried to stay apart and mostly we’ve succeeded. But – !’
‘It just happened?’
Miserably, Diane nodded.
Bryony didn’t cry. Her pinched, wounded expression was worse than tears. She dropped her forehead in her hand and rubbed her back. Her tummy swelled a little every day but she wasn’t sailing through the final trimester in the golden glow that the books suggested she might. She felt in her pocket for her inhaler.
‘I’m sorry,’ Diane repeated, helplessly.
Bryony didn’t look at her as she took the two puffs that would give her a bit of space in her lungs. ‘I know. I think I know, Mum, honestly. Dad hasn’t always been the easiest and you’ve had to struggle with money the way you have and then find out that he’s been rolling in it for ages must be totally crappy. You were, like, totally loyal and he didn’t treat you right.’
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