by Maeve Haran
And would she be able to stay independent if she were somewhere small and cosy like this, or would the day come when she couldn’t get up the stairs and had to be put in a care home? Surely the baby boomers, the Me Generation, who had been so clever at other things, could come up with something better than that?
Laura was also talking to estate agents, though, unlike Ella, with no idea where she might go instead. If it hadn’t been for having to sell, she might have stayed on and filled the place with lodgers as her children moved out. She was sure of one thing at least, she’d been right to turn down Simon’s offer of getting back together.
She didn’t even think her children would want it. Certainly not Bella, and Sam rarely mentioned him.
Not surprisingly, there would be no trouble selling the house. Their part of town was still thought highly desirable, it seemed. Laura realized she’d have to curb her natural instincts to make the place as inviting as possible. Maybe she’d leave some dirty clothes in the sink, arrange Sam’s stinky trainers about the place, take up smoking. Plenty of unwilling divorcees did their best to sabotage the sale, the agent confided. ‘We had one who told every prospective buyer the place was haunted.’
She rather admired divorce-resisters.
Ten minutes after the agent left, the doorbell rang.
It couldn’t be a prospective buyer already, unless the agent had tipped someone off unofficially and they were so desperate to get in first that they were already asking for a showing.
To her genuine surprise it was Calum from Relationship Recovery.
‘Calum, how are you?’ She had to admit he looked very well. The anxiety lines round his mouth had gone, he was suntanned and really rather attractive in old blue jeans and a loose white linen shirt.
‘Not too bad. I remembered your address from when we had to write it down. Reading upside down is one of my more recherché skills.’ He produced a bottle of champagne, all frosted and inviting, from behind his back. ‘Decree absolute just came through and I thought it called for a celebration. How’s yours going?’
‘Just had the decree nisi, that’s why I’m putting the house on the market. I thought you might be the estate agent or a prospective buyer.’
He shrugged. ‘Just selling my own house. My ex-wife’s found somewhere she likes, so that’s good.’ Laura led him through the house into the garden. ‘Lovely place. Are you all right? About selling, I mean? Leaving behind all your memories?’
‘Do you know, I thought I’d mind a lot more. I think the time’s right. I’ve got this fantasy of giving everything I own to my kids or Oxfam and starting with a clean slate. Just keeping a very few things I love and trying to simplify.’ She grinned at him. ‘Plus I’m a grandmother!’
He smiled, surviving the shock with equanimity. ‘You’ll soon acquire plenty of clutter, then. Babies seem to carry the whole of Toys R Us with them these days. What is it, boy or girl?’
‘Boy.’
‘Name?’
‘It was going to be Robert after the singer of The Cure, or Aaron from, would you believe it, My Dying Bride. But I think I’ve interested them in Noah.’
‘Great name.’ He opened the champagne and they sat drinking it with bees buzzing round them and the sun dappling among the delphiniums.
‘Did you get much out of Relationship Recovery?’ Laura suddenly asked.
Calum smiled. ‘I met you.’
‘Naughty, naughty. Did you learn anything useful?’
‘I suppose I could see that the people who were doing best didn’t let themselves get tangled up in bitterness.’
‘Yes, I saw that too. I was struck by the quiz asking if you fantasized about reunions. I did. And then Simon turned up here and said it was all a terrible mistake, he should never have left and could he come home?’
‘And what did you say?’
Laura smiled and raised her glass, meeting his eyes. ‘I told him to fuck off back to his girlfriend.’
‘Good for you. It’s funny hearing you swear, you’re so lady-like it’s rather shocking.’
‘Look here, Buster, I’m toughening up.’
‘Don’t toughen up too much.’
‘I’m not going to be the silly little woman who doesn’t notice her husband’s having an affair again. The next man I meet will be too scared to be unfaithful.’
‘I’ll take that as a warning, shall I?’
Laura, who’d been enjoying herself, suddenly panicked. This was all moving too fast. ‘I wasn’t really thinking of you.’
‘I’m sure you weren’t, worse luck. Besides,’ he mimicked her speech with a wicked accuracy, “The thing is, I’m not really ready for a serious relationship”. How about an unserious one? We could forget how we met and pretend it was on the Internet like everyone else.’
‘What, on one of those websites like Hot Granny Dating?’
‘I was thinking more Guardian Soulmates. But now that you mention it, you are rather a hot granny.’
‘You’re not so bad yourself. Tell you what, my friend’s daughter is getting married next Saturday in Surrey and I’m allowed a guest to the evening party. Why don’t you come down?’
‘I’d like that very much.’ He drained his champagne. ‘Time I left. In case you get another prospective buyer or change your mind about inviting me.’
Laura saw him out and they swapped emails. ‘I’ll send you all the details.’ She waved him off into the early evening sunshine, asking herself, now that it was too late, if that wasn’t a really stupid thing she’d done.
To expose Calum, whom she liked but hardly knew, to the full glare of family, friends and The Coven – it would probably strangle any relationship at birth.
Maybe that was what she wanted.
‘You haven’t forgotten it’s my choir tonight?’ Claudia enquired.
Don looked up grumpily. ‘Does that mean no supper?’
‘Yes. Unless you make it.’
‘And I suppose you’ll be swanning off to the pub after with your pin-up of a choir master?’
‘I might well.’ She ignored the reference to Daniel. ‘But I won’t be late.’ The wedding was fast approaching and there was still plenty to do.
Claudia walked down the lane to the school where they rehearsed and met Betty in the hall.
‘Hello, Betty!’ she greeted her old friend.
‘I’m surprised you’re here. Shouldn’t you be out in the moonlight picking rose petals for confetti or turning napkins into swans?’
‘There’s plenty of time for all that.’
‘Hey, Daniel. How about “I’m Getting Married in the Morning”, just for Claudia here.’
‘Oh God, not you too. I was hoping to get away from all that.’
‘OK.’ Daniel suddenly broke into a Fred Astaire routine, grabbing Claudia and gliding across the floor with her.
‘I didn’t know you could dance,’ Claudia commented, impressed.
‘Now, kids, keep it clean,’ Betty scolded. ‘Back to the serious music.’
They worked their way through some Bach, Schubert and George Gershwin before piling into the pub, where they were very welcome, Tuesday night being a quiet evening. The only customers seemed to be a couple of farm labourers, a tweedy couple sitting by the window and some invisible lovebirds in the L-shaped section round the corner.
‘How’s the outfit?’ Betty asked.
‘Pink.’
‘I’m sure you’ll look gorgeous in it. And very suitable.’
‘Suitable?’ echoed Claudia in disgust.
‘I thought you wanted to look suitable.’
‘Yes, but it seems such a depressing word.’
‘Glamorous, then. Fabulous. Terrific. Sexy.’
Daniel joined them and they walked out into the balmy night, Daniel on one side of Betty, Claudia on the other.
‘What an amazing evening,’ Claudia murmured.
‘Come on, lovebirds, time to go home to your nests,’ Betty bore down on them, ‘individually. Dan
iel and I are going in the same direction, aren’t we, Daniel?’ Betty reminded.
Daniel just laughed. ‘Watch out, Claudia, there’s nothing more disapproving than a reformed chorus girl.’
‘That’s because chorus girls know the cost of bad behaviour.’
‘It’s the rich what gets the pleasure and the poor what gets the pain?’ Daniel teased.
‘Something like that.’
Betty steered Daniel firmly in the direction of his home while Claudia continued the last few yards alone. She stood in the narrow lane thinking about him and smiling into the velvety silence of the night.
Except that there wasn’t silence. There was shouting and screaming coming from somewhere nearby.
With a lurch of the heart Claudia realized that the source of all the disturbance was her own home.
CHAPTER 25
Don and Gaby were standing on the front path yelling at each other.
‘What on earth is going on?’ Claudia demanded.
Gaby, unearthly pale in the moonlit garden, turned to her mother, her face distraught. ‘It’s Dad. Did you know he was carrying on with some woman called Marianne?’
Claudia knew what was expected of her. Anger. Jealousy. A demand for an explanation. But what she actually felt was guilt. Guilt that she had known and done nothing, because her emotions had been tied up not with her husband but with Daniel Forrest.
‘My God,’ Gaby’s face became a mask of shock and dislike, ‘you did know!’
‘I knew he was in touch with her, yes.’
Don, silent and drooping, turned to her. ‘You never said anything.’
‘You were unhappy here, lonely even. I thought maybe this woman might be helping.’
‘He texts her all day long. He’s just been doing it now!’
Anger finally broke through the paralysis that had been engulfing Claudia. Not just at Don, but at herself. She was as bad as Ella’s daughter Julia. Worse, because she ought to have more sense at her age.
‘I’m getting my friend Beth to give me away. It’s archaic anyway, being handed over by one man to another, and after this I don’t want him to.’
‘Gaby, darling . . .’ Claudia tried to reason with her daughter.
‘Why don’t you ask your bloody choir master,’ Don flung at Claudia. ‘He’s the one you’re really interested in!’
They stood staring at each other as Gaby and Douglas watched in silent horror. ‘If you two are an example of what marriage does to you, then I don’t want to get married at all!’
Gaby ran down the path, sobbing.
Douglas surveyed them both. ‘Well done, guys. Terrific timing. Let’s hope she doesn’t mean it.’
‘I’ll go and speak to her.’ Claudia turned towards the house.
‘No,’ Douglas caught her arm to stop her, and she saw how very angry he was, ‘you’d better leave this to me.’
Claudia and Don looked at each other hopelessly.
‘Well, we screwed that up royally,’ Don admitted.
‘I’m not really involved with Daniel Forrest. I was just flattered he fancied me.’
‘Marianne’s a bit lonely. I think I’m a bit of fantasy to her. I could be anyone, to be honest.’
‘Do you think Gaby means it?’
Don shrugged, looking suddenly older. ‘I don’t think she knows herself. It’s late. Maybe she’ll have got over it by the morning.’
Claudia lay awake, as far away from Don as possible, in their wide double bed, wondering what she would do if Gaby still did mean it. Perhaps they could cancel, even if it meant contacting all the guests, and the caterers, not to mention the Flying Carpet people who were due to arrive the next day to set up. It would cost a fortune. And then there was her already fraught relationship with her daughter to mend. Not to mention her husband. God almighty, what had they both been thinking of?
Sal had woken up with an exciting thought and was eager for morning to come so that she could follow it through.
Nights were not the cancer sufferer’s friend and she often ended up propped up in bed wide awake trying to read a book listening to the World Service.
Since Lara was here and would be staying with Sal until after her treatment, she decided to phone Claudia tomorrow and ask if she could bring a guest to the wedding or at least the party afterwards.
By 8.30 she’d been awake for about four hours, and couldn’t wait any longer.
Claudia’s sleepy voice answered the phone.
‘Heavens, Claudia, aren’t you up yet? How’s the wedding of the year going?’
‘Sal? Oh, God, Sal, don’t. We had the most almighty row last night. I even wondered if she was going to call the whole thing off.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Sal soothed. ‘Bridal nerves. We’re always doing features on it. At least it wasn’t the bridegroom, that’s more serious. When they change their mind they usually mean it. She’ll probably be fine this morning. My advice is pretend nothing happened. Just go on as normal.’
Claudia was grateful she hadn’t asked the reason for the fight.
‘Anyway, where have you got to?’ Claudia demanded. ‘You’re harder to track down than the Scarlet Pimpernel. We’ve all been really worried about you. And you are coming to the wedding, aren’t you? You replied ages ago.’
‘Of course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Claudia, I know this is very rude of me and weddings are tricky events, but there’s someone I want to bring with me. I wouldn’t ask normally but this is someone special, someone I’d really like you to meet. Do you think you could squeeze one more in?’
‘I wouldn’t even dare ask at the moment. It’s been a very touchy subject. They can come to the party, though. Gaby gave us permission to ask as many as we wanted.’
‘What time’s that?’
‘Eight till late, it says on the invitation. If it ever happens. I’ll probably be spending the next day on the phone putting people off.’
‘Cheer up, Claudia, I’m sure it won’t come to that.’
‘More to the point. Who is it you’re bringing?’ How amazing if Sal had a boyfriend at last.
‘Just put Plus One.’
‘Get you, Ms Mysterious. How are you, anyway? None of us can believe how long it is since we’ve actually clapped eyes on you. You aren’t avoiding us because you’ve had a sex change or anything? Because, honestly, we’d still keep you in the coven.’
Sal laughed. ‘Nothing so dramatic. It’s always a thought though.’
Claudia suddenly remembered the glimpse she’d had of her at the hospital. ‘By the way, what were you doing in the Princess Lily? I could have sworn I saw you there when Bella was having her baby. You were with a blonde woman.’
There was a beat of silence on the end of the line. ‘Wait and see,’ Sal announced infuriatingly. ‘All will be revealed.’
Really, thought Claudia, irritated. She’d had enough drama recently to last a lifetime.
She’d just said goodbye and gone downstairs in her dressing gown when her father appeared, bearing a straw-filled basket full of eggs. ‘A little pre-wedding gift for Gaby from my chickens,’ he announced. ‘New-laid. I hope she likes them.’
It was terrific to see her father properly mobile again. ‘I’m sure she’ll love them.’ Her father, always intuitive, picked up the uncertainty in her tone.
‘Something up?’
‘Oh, God, Dad,’ she leaned on his shoulder, feeling like a child again, ‘we all had a terrific quarrel last night. I’ve no idea what’ll happen today, whether there’ll even be a wedding.’
Len opened his arms and Claudia surrendered herself to one of his big bear hugs. ‘I’m sure it’ll all come out in the wash.’
Claudia remembered that she was the one who should be taking care of her parents, not the other way round. ‘How’s Mum?’
‘I haven’t been finding pills hidden in the airing cupboard or down the back of the sofa recently. So that’s something. I think she must be listening to you at last.’
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br /> ‘That’d be a change.’
‘Cheer up. Weddings are always hell. That’s why there are honeymoons, for the couple to get away from their families before they kill each other.’
‘Douglas’s parents must have arrived by now. They were only coming at the last minute.’
‘Nice boy, is he?’
‘Yes, he is. Quiet but with hidden strengths. Rather worrying how little time they’ve known each other.’
‘I don’t think that matters. I knew the moment I met your mum.’
Claudia smiled at him. ‘I didn’t know that.’ But then you never really thought of your parents as people, young like you were and full of dreams and angst, falling in love and suffering rejection.
‘I was a bit of a ditherer, scared of deciding unless I made a mistake. Olivia never had doubts about anything. She was magnificent.’
‘That sounds like Mum.’ Claudia caught the troubled look in his eye. ‘She’ll get better. I know she will.’
‘Thank you, darling. I’d better pop off and take her her morning tea.’
‘You’re all right with stairs now then.’
He grinned, the old Len of her childhood peeping out again. ‘I’m thinking of taking up hurdling, as a matter of fact.’
Ella breathed in deeply.
It was done.
She’d accepted an offer from the third prospective buyers who’d seen around the house. The estate agent insisted they were the dream purchasers: cash buyers who’d already sold and therefore weren’t involved in a chain. To make it easier, Ella liked them. She couldn’t actually bear to show them round her beloved home herself, but when she did meet them they’d made all the right noises. They understood the unique qualities of the place, loved the oak panelling and the sweeping staircase, even noting that the width of the skirting boards was exactly right for the period. Ella decided they wouldn’t be the type to install basement cinemas or underground parking or an indoor swimming pool like a lot of London’s newly rich. They were so eager they had already done an express search and were almost ready to exchange contracts.
She looked at her husband’s photograph standing as it always did on the hall table. ‘What do you think, Laurence?’