‘More’s the pity,’ Hugh muttered.
Her eyes had strayed back to the gallery. ‘I can’t think what he sees in her,’ she said.
‘Oh, I don’t know; she has a certain something,’ Hugh returned, studying the unaware Catherine. ‘Poise, elegance, a charming smile.’
‘Too long in the tooth for you, at any rate,’ Lindsey said waspishly.
Hugh flicked her a glance, and his mouth twitched. ‘I wouldn’t say that,’ he murmured consideringly. ‘Sex appeal has no age limit, after all.’
‘Men!’ Lindsey exclaimed disgustedly, and Hugh, satisfied, let the subject drop.
‘So what do you think of her?’ Rona asked.
‘Very attractive.’
She looked at him in surprise. ‘Really? So do I, but I can’t convince Linz. All right, she’s not conventionally pretty, but she has a lovely smile – lovely eyes, too – and she’s always so perfectly groomed, it’s a pleasure to look at her.’
‘You like her, don’t you?’
‘Very much. I always have. She helped me with my Buckford project, if you remember.’
‘Oh, I remember, but I didn’t realize you felt so warmly about her. Why didn’t you say so?’
Rona shrugged. ‘Almost as soon as I met her, I saw her with Pops that evening, which put the kibosh on everything. After that – well, divided loyalties, I suppose.’ She paused. ‘Will you really talk to her society? Won’t it be starting a precedent, or opening the floodgates, or something?’
Max laughed. ‘My darling girl, I’m not as avidly sought after as you seem to think. I believe I can safely make an exception in Catherine’s case. If, that is, she asks me again.’
‘Oh, she will,’ Rona said confidently. ‘Believe me, she will.’
Since Lindsey and Hugh were still at their table when they were about to leave, Tom made a point of taking Catherine across to meet them. Hugh came to his feet, his eyes appraisingly on her, but after a quick, acknowledging glance, Lindsey’s eyes dropped.
Aware of the embarrassment on all sides, Catherine said easily, ‘Isn’t this a splendid place? A real asset to the town. How long has it been open, do you know?’
It was Hugh who answered. ‘About a month. Our firm received flyers, advising us of the opening. They don’t serve lunches, incidentally; only dinners.’
‘Very wise,’ Tom commented. ‘There’d be nowhere to park at lunchtime, whereas the meters are free after six. I’m sure they’ll do well, particularly in the run-up to Christmas. Well, we must be on our way. Enjoy the rest of your meal.’ And with his hand under Catherine’s elbow, he steered her away from their assessing eyes.
‘One more hurdle over,’ he said, as they reached the car and he opened the passenger door for her. ‘It’ll be easier next time, I promise.’
Catherine wasn’t so sure. There was a surly air about Lindsey very different from her twin’s openness. She could, Catherine felt, hold grudges indefinitely.
Tom started the engine, and after a few yards, turned off Guild Street into Windsor Way.
‘There’s no need to drop me off, Tom,’ Catherine said softly. ‘If I may, I’d like to be with you your first night in the flat.’ And at his exclamation, she added, ‘Yes, I know; we said we wouldn’t spend a night together till we’re married, but this is a one-off. It’s your birthday, your retirement and – to paraphrase – the first night of the rest of your life. You wouldn’t mind, would you?’
‘Mind?’ Tom echoed, his voice choked. ‘I can think of nothing more wonderful.’
On the Saturday morning, Max received a phone call from his sister.
‘I promised to report back after Father had seen the doctor,’ she began. ‘I tried to ring you last night, but there was no reply, and I didn’t want to leave a message.’
‘How is he?’ Max asked quickly.
‘Actually, he seems a little better. His appointment was yesterday morning; I ran him there, of course, but he refused point-blank to allow me to go in with him, so I have only an edited version of what transpired. However, he seems to have had a thorough going-over and was prescribed some antibiotics, which, naturally, he scoffs at. But I made him promise to take them.’
‘No sign of pneumonia?’ That had been Max’s secret fear.
‘Not as far as I know.’
‘Then let’s hope the medicine gives him an appetite. He’d be a lot stronger if he ate properly.’
‘I’ve been telling him that for weeks.’
‘Thanks for letting me know, Cyn. I’ll phone you next weekend, and hope for some positive progress.’
The Darcy Hall was packed for the performance of the Messiah, and judging by the continuing applause when it ended, the audience had enjoyed it to the full.
‘It’s only ten o’clock,’ Gavin remarked as they filed slowly out of the hall. ‘How about some wine and tapas at the Bacchus?’
‘Excellent idea,’ Max approved, and they walked the hundred yards or so to the wine bar along the road. It seemed others had had the same idea, and they were lucky to get the last vacant table.
‘So,’ Gavin began, when the food and wine had been served, ‘what are you two up to these days?’
‘Max has been commissioned to paint local landscapes for a calendar,’ Rona volunteered. ‘Talk about forward planning – it’s for the year after next.’
‘I’m trying to choose appropriate scenes for each month,’ Max explained. ‘They don’t all have to be rural, and I’ve made some preliminary sketches of Guild Street resplendent with its Christmas lights. With the old Georgian frontages, it should be very effective.’
‘Put our name down for one!’ Magda said, reaching for a stuffed squid.
Gavin turned to Rona. ‘As for you, I can’t open Chiltern Life these days without seeing your byline! Not thinking of a takeover bid, are you?’
‘I’m still trying to get her back to biographies,’ Max said ruefully. ‘It seems a far less hazardous occupation.’
‘Well, you’ll have to put it on hold,’ Magda told him. ‘She’s already planning a new set of articles, aren’t you, Rona? On long-standing local shops and businesses.’
Gavin looked up. ‘That should be interesting; who will you start with?’
Rona hesitated. ‘I’ll have to sound them out first, but I thought probably Tarlton’s – the jewellers.’
‘Good choice,’ Gavin nodded. ‘Not only a long-established business, but with interesting personal stories as well, if you can get them to open up.’
‘Such as Lewis’s ex marrying one of the Clarendon lot?’ asked Magda, with her mouth full.
‘That, of course, but also the flighty wife fleeing the marital bed.’
‘Spare us the journalese, Gavin,’ Max said. ‘Elucidate.’
‘Oh, it was years ago now, but old Robert’s wife did a bunk with her lover and left him holding the baby. Two of them, in fact.’ He bit into a prawn. ‘Actually, I knew her – Velma Tarlton. My mother used to play tennis with her.’
‘Gavin, that’s fabulous!’ Rona exclaimed. ‘What was she like?’
‘Pretty, in a blonde, blue-eyed way. In fact, very like her daughter, who works in the shop. Not as fragile-looking, though; she had bags of sex appeal. Too much, as it turned out. According to snippets I overheard, she’d had a string of lovers.’
‘And who was the last one?’
‘Ah, the million-dollar question! The prime suspect was a bloke she’d had an affair with before. He left town about the same time she did.’
‘I wonder if she stuck with him,’ Max mused, ‘or moved on to someone else. I suppose we’ll never know.’
According to Kate, Rona remembered, Robert had hoped for years that she’d go back to him. Just as well all broken hearts didn’t take so long to mend, she thought, with a guilty glance at Gavin. Thank God he and Magda were happy together. They made a striking couple, he just over and she just under six foot, Gavin ash-blond and Magda with her Italian mother’s dark hair and eyes. Ro
na felt a rush of love for them both.
‘What are you doing for Christmas?’ Magda asked. ‘Going to the parents, as usual?’
Rona took a deep breath. These were their closest friends, and after all, Pops had openly taken Catherine to Serendipity.
‘It’s not quite as simple as that,’ she said quietly, aware of Max’s eyes on her. ‘My parents have just separated.’
‘Oh no!’ Magda exclaimed. ‘Oh, Rona, I’m so sorry!’
Gavin said, ‘Your father’s retirement was in today’s local rag. It said your mother couldn’t attend because she had flu.’
‘Only the diplomatic variety,’ Rona replied.
‘So – what’s going to happen now?’
‘Pops has moved out and is renting a flat in Talbot Road.’ No need, yet, to mention Catherine. Rona didn’t want him to appear the guilty party.
‘Was it – amicable?’
‘Not at first, but I believe things are easier now.’ She paused, then carried on determinedly, ‘Actually, Mum has blossomed in the last few weeks – new clothes, new hairdo, and she’s taken a job at the local library.’
‘Well, good for her,’ Magda said uncertainly.
‘How’s your mother?’ Rona put in quickly. ‘I keep meaning to pop in and see her.’
Paola King had been an important figure in Rona’s childhood, providing the warmth and tenderness that had been lacking in her relationship with her own mother.
‘She’s fine. Do call in, she’d love to see you.’
Mention of the separation seemed to have put a dampener on the evening, Rona thought sadly, and soon afterwards their party broke up and went their separate ways.
Max glanced at her as they got into the car, and laid a hand on her lap. ‘It still hurts, doesn’t it, love?’
‘Of course it hurts. And oh Max, what are we going to do about Christmas?’
‘As Gavin would say, that is the million-dollar question.’
On which unsettled note, they drove home.
Eight
On Monday morning, another invitation dropped through the letter box and Max, about to leave for Farthings, opened it.
‘It’s from the Trents,’ he reported. ‘Supper on Saturday the seventeenth.’
‘Barnie said he’d arrange something while Mitch was over. That’s every Saturday till Christmas accounted for. At one time, I’d thought we might have a party ourselves, but there’s been so much going on I haven’t got round to it, and now it’s too late.’
Max bent to kiss her cheek. ‘Have a good day and I’ll ring you this evening.’
‘If you’re going out sketching, make sure you wrap up,’ Rona called after him, as he went down the steps.
Actually, it was slightly less cold than it had been, and after days of drizzling mist the sky was a welcome blue. Resisting its temptation, Rona went up to her study, determined to complete Coralie Davis’s story. Then, she told herself, all she’d have to do would be to return the photographs and papers and deliver the article to Chiltern Life, after which she could draw a line under the whole project and move on to something else.
On the days when Max had evening classes, he was free during the day to attend to his own work, and that morning he had, as Rona anticipated, taken his camera and sketch pad to the Memorial Gardens on Guild Street. From there, he had a good view of the busy thoroughfare, without being jostled by its crowds. Although he preferred its more sober aspect, when the bow windows, uneven rooftops and painted railings gave an air of Georgian elegance, its present festive mood would, as he’d told his friends, look admirable gracing the December page of the commissioned calendar.
He worked steadily for a couple of hours, until his fingers were too cold to function properly, and he decided to take a break and go along to the Gallery for a warming coffee. And it was as he was crossing the road that a breathless voice behind him said hesitantly, ‘Mr Allerdyce? Max?’ and he turned to find himself face to face with Adele Yarborough.
His first reaction was embarrassment, remembering how he’d pushed up her sleeve to expose the bruises, and her subsequent flight from the house. But before he could speak, she rushed in with her own apology.
‘I behaved very foolishly last week,’ she began.
‘On the contrary, I’d no right to do what I did.’
She gave him a tremulous smile. ‘I know it was because you were worried about me.’
She’d fallen into step with him as he walked along the pavement, and he wondered uneasily how he was going to get rid of her before they reached the Gallery. Though he needed a physical break, he didn’t want his line of thought interrupted, and had intended, over coffee, to plan the angles of the next set of sketches.
‘Are you feeling better now?’ he asked inanely.
‘Not really. I’m not sleeping too well, which doesn’t help. This morning I felt so tired I shouted at Nick, and he went off to school in a strop. I’ve had a conscience about it all morning.’
‘He probably forgot as soon as he was out of the door.’
They’d reached the iron staircase leading up to the café, and he cast about for some way of ending the conversation. ‘Try taking a sedative,’ he suggested. ‘I’m sure that’ll help. See you on Wednesday, then.’
But she did not, as he’d hoped, walk on. ‘Are you going up for a coffee? I’m on the way there myself.’
Max swore silently, but there was no escape. ‘Then we’ll have one together,’ he decreed with false heartiness, and motioned her ahead of him up the staircase.
Once in the Gallery, he instinctively chose a table half-hidden behind a pillar; worried as he was about Adele, he’d no wish to be seen with her in public. Meanwhile, she’d slipped off her coat with its fur collar, to reveal a pale blue angora sweater. As always, she wore no jewellery apart from a watch and her wedding ring. The cool air had stung colour into her usually pale cheeks, her hair was windblown, and it struck Max uncomfortably that she looked very pretty.
She ordered café latte, he espresso, and they sat in a pool of silence, surrounded by laughter and chat from the adjacent tables. Please, Max prayed silently, don’t let me see anyone I know!
But even as the thought formed, a voice above him said acidly, ‘Well, hello Max! And Adele, too!’; and to his horror, he looked up to meet Lindsey’s accusing gaze.
Unwelcome colour seeped into his face, but before he could speak, Adele rushed into an over-abundance of explanations that would have aroused suspicions in the most trustful of minds – which Lindsey’s certainly was not.
‘We just bumped into each other in the street,’ she gushed. ‘Wasn’t that a coincidence? I’d no idea Max would be there – I thought he’d be ensconced in his studio, painting furiously! But it turned out he was coming for a coffee, and as I was too, it – well, it just seemed natural to join up.’
Max found his voice at last. ‘And why aren’t you at your desk, Lindsey?’ he asked drily.
‘I’m on my way back after visiting a client, but they make better coffee here than they do in the office. Well, I must be on my way. Give my love to Rona,’ she added pointedly, and with a nod to them both, she walked quickly out of the café.
Damn and double-damn! Max thought. He glanced at Adele, who was watching him with an amused glint in her eye.
‘Will you get into trouble?’ she asked with mock concern.
He said stiffly, ‘I don’t have to account for my move-ments.’ Which, he realized as soon as he’d spoken, was hardly a wise comment.
She leaned across the table and put a slender hand on his wrist. ‘I’m sorry, Max. I realize I’ve made things awkward for you. Put the blame on me.’
‘There’s no blame attached to anyone. We’re having a cup of coffee, that’s all.’
‘Yes,’ she said, eyes demurely dropping again as she sat back in her chair. ‘All the same, I do feel better after seeing you. I always do. Would it be possible, do you think, for us to meet every now and then, just for coffee or a drink
or something? There wouldn’t be any harm in it, would there?’
‘It wouldn’t be very sensible, though. If you’re really in need of help, there are professional people you could contact.’ He paused. ‘Look, about those bruises—’
In an instant she was on her feet, shrugging on her coat. ‘Thanks for the coffee,’ she said rapidly. ‘See you on Wednesday.’
And before he could draw breath, she was gone.
Max’s coffee was ice-cold before he finally looked up and asked for the bill.
The promise of early morning was upheld, and mellow sunshine lit the last leaves to russet and gold as Rona and Gus walked down the road to collect the car.
Once out of the confines of the town, Guild Street metamorphosed into Belmont Road, leading eventually to the suburb where Rona had grown up and where her mother still lived. On its way there, it passed occasional small groups of houses, one or two shopping parades and the odd school, and just beyond one of these clusters was the turning Rona was looking for.
As Kate had said, Brindley Grove was a cul-de-sac, though a footpath alongside the house facing her gave pedestrian access to the road behind. The gates of the house were open, and Rona drove through them, parking next to a small red sports car. Kate came out to meet her, followed by Freya Tarlton.
‘Good to see you, Rona. You’ve met Freya, of course.’
‘Yes.’ Rona smiled at the girl. ‘It was sweet of you to send flowers.’
‘I was highly embarrassed by the whole episode.’
Gus, recognizing Kate, was scratching at the side window and wagging his tail. It had the desired effect.
‘I see his paw’s better,’ she commented. ‘Do bring him in with you.’
‘If you’re sure.’ Rona opened the rear door and Gus bounded out, licking the hand Kate held out to him. Rona was looking up at the stone house in front of them. ‘I didn’t know you lived in such grand surroundings.’
‘It’s the family home,’ Kate replied. ‘Soon after we were married, Robert made it over to Lewis and Freya, and since she didn’t want to live here, Lewis bought her out. Come inside.’
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