by Susan Lewis
Claudia shook herself quickly. “It’s OK, it’s gone,” she assured her, pushing the memory back into the shadows.
Jasmine was still concerned, so Claudia smiled. “Really it has,” she promised, “and you’ve completely transformed me from a dull old mumsie sewing bee into a . . .” She couldn’t think how to describe herself without sounding immodest.
“Into a sophisticated and alluring businesswoman who’s totally going to be the belle of the ball,” Jasmine finished for her.
As they laughed and hugged Marcy came into the room, and both Claudia’s and Jasmine’s eyes rounded with surprise and approval.
“Wow, Nana,” Jasmine murmured. “You look amazing too. I don’t think I’ve seen that before.”
“You haven’t,” Marcy admitted, and twirled to show off her new navy silk jersey jumpsuit with frivolous bell cuffs and slightly risqué V-neck. “And you, Claudia, look so lovely I could look at you all night, but I think we should be going or we’ll be late.”
“Excuse me,” Jasmine protested as they started for the door, “isn’t anyone going to say that I look amazing too?”
Laughing, Claudia said, “You look so lovely that I’d like a photo of you before we go.”
Obligingly, Jasmine struck a pose in the cluttered sitting room, one hand on her hip, the other reaching above her to offer the best view of her slinky, cold-shoulder sweater, ripped-knee leggings, and block-heel ankle boots.
Half an hour later they were driving over the cattle grid that marked the entrance to Ash Morley Farm, where the ramble of old buildings had been converted into dwellings. Leanne, Tom, and Abby lived in the converted barn, Wilkie, Leanne’s mother, was in the old farmhouse, and Klaudia, the pretty Polish lady who worked at the shop with Leanne, occupied the stables with her two young children. The place was a rural idyll, so characterful and welcoming that Claudia could only wonder now why she’d always been in such a hurry to drop Jasmine off and leave.
“Please excuse us for being late. You wouldn’t believe how long it’s taken my wife to get ready this evening. Or looking at her, maybe you would.” A typical put-down from Marcus, humorous, teasing, even affectionately delivered, but the cruelty was always there.
Bringing the car to a stop next to Andee’s Mercedes, Claudia took a brief moment to steel herself against any more unwelcome voices, and unfastened her seat belt.
As they approached the barn Abby came bursting out to greet them, looking almost Goth-like in the moonlight with her recently dyed black hair and kohl-rimmed eyes. “Everyone’s here already,” she told them, “but don’t worry, Grandma can’t find her glasses and nothing can happen until she has them.”
“Claudia, Marcy,” Leanne cried warmly as they entered a large, rustic kitchen that turned out to be the first third of an enormous vaulted living space. Bifold doors were spaced all along one wall and an impressive fireplace was at the far end with lively flames at its heart. “I’m so glad you came. Here, let Abby take your coats and I’ll introduce you to Tom.”
A tall, striking man of around fifty was already coming toward them, holding out a hand to shake first with Marcy, then with Claudia. “You must be Marcy and Claudia. I’m Tom, Leanne’s partner—I’ve heard a lot about you,” he told them. “All good, of course.”
Remembering what she’d heard about him, that he’d once been a spy, Claudia returned the friendliness of his smile as she said, “It’s so kind of you to invite us this evening. We feel very honored to be part of such a special celebration.”
You’re only here because they feel sorry for you. Don’t initiate a conversation unless someone else does. You’re boring, so just listen.
“We’re honored you could make it, especially given how hard I hear Andee is working you at the moment,” Tom commented wryly.
“Sounds like Andee,” a young man in his mid-twenties piped up as he stepped forward to be introduced. “I’m Richie, Tom’s son. Good to meet you both.”
“He’s running the local paper,” Tom informed them, “so if you’re interested in advertising your business, Claudia, I’m sure he’ll give you a good rate.”
“Which I would have offered myself,” Richie stated, casting a meaningful look at his father, “but hey, I’ve spent a lifetime with him stealing my thunder, so why would it be any different now?”
Tom grinned. “Come on,” he said, taking Claudia’s and Marcy’s arms, “let’s introduce you to some more important people.”
“You’ll pay for that,” Richie warned as they walked away.
As they merged into the room full of other guests, an older man with neat silver hair and small glasses came forward to draw Marcy into an affectionate embrace. “You look a treat,” he told her softly, although loud enough for Claudia to hear.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” Marcy replied flirtatiously. “Very dapper, in fact.”
Apparently thrilled with the compliment, he turned his merry eyes to Claudia.
“This is my daughter, Claudia,” Marcy came in quickly, “and my granddaughter . . . Jasmine? Where’s Jasmine?” she asked, looking around.
“Gone with Abby to hang the coats,” Claudia informed her as Tom was called back to the kitchen. Her eyes returned to the man who was reaching for one of her hands with both of his.
“Henry Matthews,” he said, with such an amiable smile it was impossible not to respond with one of her own. “I’m very glad to meet you, Claudia. I’m not sure if it’s appropriate to comment on how you look too, but if it is, may I say stunning?”
With a quick look at her mother, Claudia said, “I think I can live with that. It’s lovely to meet you, Henry. Mum’s told us about you, and I . . .”
“I haven’t told them much,” Marcy interrupted hastily. “Henry and I are just friends,” she informed Claudia, making herself blush and Henry twinkle with amusement. “We belong to a few of the same groups at the community center.”
“And I’ve been promised the great pleasure of teaching your mother to play golf once the weather improves,” Henry added.
Golf? Her mother hated golf.
Stifling a laugh, Claudia moved on to where Andee and Graeme were in animated conversation with another couple, but just before she reached them a voice in her head said, Don’t you know better than to interrupt people?
She hesitated, but Andee had already spotted her and came to greet her. “You look lovely,” she said softly. “Quite a change to this afternoon.”
Claudia laughed at the tease. “Same goes for you,” she countered.
Clearly enjoying the banter, Andee drew her into the small group, saying, “Graeme you already know, and this is Klaudia—same name, different pronunciation.”
“We’ve met before,” the slight, pretty woman with silky blond hair and almost childlike blue eyes reminded her, while taking her hand. “In Glory Days, the vintage shop in town?”
“Indeed.” Claudia smiled, recognizing her. “It’s lovely to see you again.”
“And this is Dan Collier,” Andee continued, “who’s also a newcomer in town, relatively speaking. How long have you been here now, Dan?”
“Ten months,” he replied, and as his eyes met hers Claudia quickly looked away, though she wasn’t sure why. He didn’t seem threatening in any way, or resemble anyone she knew, but there was something about him . . .
“Dan took over Henry’s law practice when Henry retired,” Andee explained, “and I expect you’ve heard me mention him once or twice, because of our Restorative Justice program.”
“Only once or twice?” Dan objected. “I thought I might warrant a full onslaught of gushing given how marvelously we’re doing.”
Laughing, Andee gave him a playful nudge and turned around as Graeme said, “Wilkie’s found her glasses.”
“Thank God,” Andee murmured. “I’m dying for a drink.”
“Hello, everyone,” a diminutive, hippyish-looking woman of around seventy called out from the chair she was standing on. She glanced behin
d her, spotted Tom close by, and said, “Oh good, you’re there.”
“She gets overexcited sometimes,” Andee whispered to Claudia, “so he’s ready to catch her in case she flings herself off.”
Claudia laughed with everyone else as Wilkie took the glass of champagne Abby was passing her and waited until everyone else was holding one before crying out joyfully, “It gives me the greatest happiness to toast Tom and Leanne. May all your blessings be small and problems big . . .”
“Grandma!” Abby shouted.
Wilkie looked startled.
“Big blessings, small problems?” Abby said through her teeth.
Wilkie blinked. “Did I get it wrong? Oh goodness, well, you know what I meant, absolutely big blessings . . .”
Laughing, Tom stepped forward and circling an arm around Wilkie’s waist he turned to Leanne and said, “To my beautiful fiancée, thank you for agreeing to be my wife.”
As the room chorused, “To Tom and Leanne,” Claudia noticed her mother clinking glasses with Henry and laughing at something he murmured in her ear.
“So how long have you been in Kesterly?” she heard someone ask.
She turned to find Dan Collier beside her and looking, she thought, as relaxed as he sounded. Why, then, was she feeling so tense?
As she answered, “Almost six months,” she turned to watch more champagne being passed around—anything to avoid his unsettling eyes, made bigger and somehow more knowing by the lenses of his glasses.
“And are you liking it?” he pressed.
“It’s taken a little getting used to, but yes, on the whole. What about you?”
“It’s OK. I still haven’t found a proper place to live, but the flat over the office works pretty well. Where are you?”
“We’re renting an apartment on the Promenade.”
“Ah, yes, I believe Andee told me, and you’re buying the old coach house on Westleigh Heights?”
She didn’t want him to know that, but it was too late now—and why didn’t she want him to know? She didn’t seem to be handling herself well; she had to do better. “Have you seen it?” she asked, deliberately ignoring Jasmine’s expressive eyebrows as she came to refill their glasses.
“I confess I have not, but I hear it’s a gem. Thank you,” he said as Jasmine poured. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced, I’m Dan.”
“I’m Jasmine,” she replied with a winning smile. “Claudia’s daughter.”
“And my best friend,” Abby called out from where she was topping up a small group of other guests.
As Dan was drawn into another conversation, Claudia looked around for her mother and spotted her still with Henry and apparently enjoying herself immensely. For almost as long as her father had been dead Claudia had hoped her mother would meet someone just as wonderful, kind, and humorous. Now, she just felt terrible for hoping that it wasn’t happening.
“You’re looking worried,” Andee declared, coming to join her again. “Is everything OK?”
“Yes, it’s fine,” Claudia replied with a smile, “just thinking about what I have to do tomorrow—sorry, no work tonight.”
“Exactly. Now, let me introduce you to everyone else.”
The next hour passed swiftly and easily enough for Claudia finally to find herself starting to relax. The voices in her head and cruel memories had stopped, there were only these friendly people from all sorts of professions, trades, and callings and most of them around her age. In fact, probably thanks to the champagne, she was enjoying talking to Dan Collier again. She was no longer as unnerved by the way his eyes held hers as she spoke, never searching the room for someone more interesting to talk to. However, she knew he’d soon start asking about her past, so to prevent it she clumsily steered the conversation to the restorative justice program Andee had told her about.
“Ah, no, you’re just being polite,” he protested. “Unless Andee’s been on your case about becoming a practitioner? Has she?”
“No, she hasn’t, and I’m not sure I’d be right for it. I mean, the idea of it seems a good one, and if it works . . . Does it work?”
“In a lot of cases, yes.”
“But not in all?”
“I guess it depends on what you term to be a success. If it helps a victim to overcome the trauma of what’s happened to them, you’d have to agree that’s a good thing. Does it erase what happened? No. So really it’s about finding a way to unlock someone from a place of fear, or anger, injustice, revenge, so they can move on.”
Absorbing that, she said, “But it’s also about the person who committed the crime?”
“Absolutely. Understanding the impact of your actions, regretting them, and wanting to show remorse can put a perpetrator in a whole different place in his or her own mind, as well as in the mind of the person they’ve harmed.”
Unable to imagine herself ever wanting to come face-to-face with Marcus again, much less wanting to hear the excuses for his cruelty, she asked, “How did you get into it?”
His eyes flickered away for a moment as he said, “My wife was a practitioner and she persuaded me to become one too.” With a grim sort of smile he added, “That was back in a previous life, before I moved here.”
Wondering where his wife was now, Claudia started to speak, but as though reading her mind he said, “She died, three years ago.”
Sensing the devastation behind his words, Claudia’s heart melted as she thought of Joel. “I’m so sorry. I really am. Was it unexpected?” she asked gently.
“A car accident. Ice on the road, an oncoming lorry . . . It wasn’t anyone’s fault . . .”
Realizing he was still grieving, she said, “So you moved here. To try and start again?”
He nodded. “I met Graeme at a reunion party, we got talking, and when he called a few months later to tell me there was a law practice coming up for sale here, I decided a change of scene might help.”
“And has it?”
“In a way, yes. Now tell me more about you. Am I allowed to ask if you’re married?”
Feeling her mouth turning dry, she said, “Jasmine’s father died when she was ten.”
“Gosh, I’m sorry to hear that. A really tough age to lose a parent.”
“Yes, it was, not helped by the fact that my father died around the same time. So now we’re just the three of us, me, Jasmine, and my mother.”
He was about to say more when Jasmine weaved a happy path to her mother’s side. “Hope I’m not interrupting,” she hiccupped, “but I just wanted to say that Nana’s bloke is totally cool. You need to meet him, Mum.”
Claudia said smoothly, “I already have—does Nana know you’re referring to him as her bloke?” She glanced at Dan and was relieved to see his amusement.
“Probably not,” Jasmine admitted. “His name’s Henry and apparently he used to own the law firm that you now run,” she informed Dan.
“Isn’t it a small world?” he said dryly.
“Tell me about it,” and catching hold of her mother’s arm she gave it a bruising squeeze. “I’m so glad we came tonight,” she said. “Everyone’s amazing and it’s starting to feel like we’ve been here forever.”
Fearing for how far she might go in her enthusiasm for the evening, Claudia said, “Could we have a quick word?”
“Of course,” Jasmine cried ecstatically. To Dan she said, “She’s about to tell me off for being drunk, so if you’ll excuse us . . .”
“Good luck.” He smiled, and saluting her with his glass, he turned to talk to someone else as Claudia took her daughter to the edge of the room.
“Please watch what you say,” she whispered. “I know it’s fun and you’re having a good time, but . . .”
“It’s all right, you can stop worrying. I won’t have any more and I promise, I’m being very careful about what I say. So now tell me, do you fancy him? He’s pretty ripped, and those glasses are kind of cute.”
Claudia’s heart contracted as she drew back in protest. “I was just ch
atting with him, nothing more, and actually I think it’s probably time we made a move. We don’t want to outstay our welcome.”
“Like as if. Anyway, Abby’s invited me to sleep over and I think I will.”
“Not while you’re like this. Please come home with me and Nana.”
Jasmine’s expression turned mutinous and Claudia experienced a bolt of unease.
“In case you’ve forgotten,” Jasmine drawled, “I’m seventeen years old, so I can do what I like . . .”
“Don’t let’s argue about it . . .”
“I’m not, I’m just saying, we can’t go on hiding ourselves away . . .”
“We’re not hiding, but we do have . . .”
“I’m not listening to any more of this. We’ve done everything your way, to make you feel safe, well you’re OK now so it’s time we lived our lives like normal people.”
A wave of panic was rising through Claudia, cutting off her breath, and her words. She tried to speak, but her throat was constricted and sweat was starting to bead on her skin.
Suddenly realizing what was happening, Jasmine grabbed her hands. “It’s OK, you’re fine,” she murmured urgently. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean . . . Just breathe, in, out. That’s it. And again. I’m coming home with you so you don’t need to worry. Everything’s fine.”
Blowing out some air, Claudia shook her head. “It’s passing,” she said, certain it was. “Is anyone watching?”
“No. Shall I get you some water?”
“No. I just need to go home. You stay. You’re right, I have to stop . . .”
“I’m coming with you. I can always sleep over another time. Best smile now, someone’s coming our way.”
It turned out to be a couple they’d met earlier wanting to say goodnight, and soon others started to drift away too.
“I’ll get our coats,” Jasmine said. “You go and round up Nana.”
Claudia found her mother near the kitchen with Henry and two others whose names she’d forgotten. Seeing her coming, Marcy put down her empty glass and said, “There you are. Is everything all right?”
“Of course,” Claudia assured her, “I just thought it was time we were going.”