‘Gosh. There are memories associated with the cottage and Gabby as well, though,’ Karen said. ‘You’ll have to live with those.’
‘I know. But I feel somehow it will be easier not having lived full-time down here. At least I won’t be sitting around staring at the wall, wondering what I’m going to do. Like I have been for the past months.’
Before Karen could answer, the waitress arrived with their lunch, carefully placing the plates on the table before asking, ‘Is there anything else? More drinks?’
When they both shook their heads and muttered ‘No thanks’, she beamed at them, said ‘Enjoy your meal’, and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.
For several minutes the two of them concentrated on their fish and chips, enjoying them while they were hot.
‘You don’t have to stare at the walls in town. You could buy somewhere else in a different area and carry on with your business up there,’ Karen said eventually.
‘I know, but dealing with the same builders and interior designers, not to mention planning officers, will just serve to keep reminding me Gabby’s gone. Whereas down here I’d have to find a completely new team, deal with new officials, etcetera. I’m sure it would be easier.’
‘You could be right. But it’s a big change.’
‘It’ll take time to organise, of course. Selling the apartment, buying the townhouse. Probably be next year before it all came together.’
‘Putting business aside: what about friends and a social life? I know there’s lots going on out at the cottages in summer but winter is quiet.’
‘I’ve already got a few friends down here, so I’m sure I can build on that,’ Bruce said. ‘I’ll probably make more of an effort to socialise once I’m down here permanently.’
Karen picked up her wine glass and took a sip. ‘That last remark makes it sound as though you’ve made up your mind to do it.’
Bruce, realising what he’d said, smiled and picked up his lager. ‘You know what? I think I might have. God only knows whether it’s the right thing to do or not, but I’m going to give it my best shot. Cheers.’
‘Good luck. Here’s to the future.’
As Karen clinked glasses with Bruce, he said, ‘Thanks for listening. It always helps to have someone to bounce ideas off.’
‘You’re welcome any time,’ Karen said.
Bruce hesitated. ‘I’m more than willing to be a sounding board for you too, if you ever need it,’ he said quietly, looking at her. ‘I know you used to talk to Gabby – not that she ever told me what you talked about,’ he added quickly.
Karen drained her glass before replacing it on the table. ‘I know, thank you, but I’m good at the moment.’ And she smiled brightly at him. No point in talking to anyone until she’d worked out in her own head which way she wanted to go.
Bruce was right. She had talked to Gabby occasionally in the past, woman to woman, but it would be good to get a man’s unbiased point of view on things that were going on in her life. Sometime this summer she would talk about the logistics of her life with Bruce, knowing he would tell her the truth and give her sound advice, but today was not the day.
‘Whenever you’re ready, you know where to find me,’ Bruce said. ‘Now, how about dessert? I see they’ve got my favourite on the menu – apple pie and clotted cream.’
Week Two
Carrie gently placed Tibbles and her injured paw in the cat carrier, making sure the catch was secure before handing it over to her anxious owner.
‘Tibbles is doing well. Bring her in at the end of next week for a final check over,’ she said, showing the woman to the door.
Seven o’clock in the evening and Tibbles was the last patient of the day. Carrie could see Max, the senior vet, through the glass door of the other consulting room and gently tapped before opening it and going in.
‘Max, have you got time for a quick drink after work? I need to talk to you.’
‘Sure. Give me five and I’ll see you upstairs.’
Carrie had worked at the Countryside Veterinary Practice, in a large village on the Devon/Somerset border, for five years now, ever since she’d first qualified. The three of them – Max, the owner, Leo, his son and herself – dealt with a mixture of small domestic animals and farm animals. When Leo had married and moved out of the flat over the surgery into one of the new houses on the estate springing up at the far edge of the village, Max had offered it to her, and she’d lived there now for three years. Happy in her home and loving her job.
She glanced out of the window as she put the coffee on and prepared a plate of biscuits for Max, the view out over the surrounding countryside reminding her, as always, of the farm and home. She’d hate to live in a big, busy town. Rural life suited her fine.
‘Coffee smells good,’ Max said, coming into the kitchen. ‘So what’s up? You’ve not been your normal bubbly self since your day off. Did something happen then?’ He looked at her, concerned.
‘Mum and I had to go to Bristol to see a lawyer,’ Carrie said, pouring the coffee.
Max raised his eyebrows. ‘Sounds serious.’
Carrie nodded. ‘It is, but everyone tells me it’s good serious. Personally, I’m not convinced yet,’ she said. ‘I’ve never mentioned this to you before, but Mum and Dad adopted me when I was just days old. And I love them both to bits,’ she added fiercely. ‘They’re my parents.’
Max carefully dunked a biscuit in his coffee and ate it, his eyes never leaving her face.
‘Now, my hitherto unknown biological father has died, leaving, for some unfathomable reason, his entire estate to me,’ Carrie said. ‘And I so wish he hadn’t.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it’s going to change everything. Even if I give it away, set up a charitable trust or something, I’m for ever going to be wondering why a man I never met, and haven’t given a thought to in twenty-eight years, would leave me a fortune. Why didn’t he just leave everything to the local cats and dogs home?’ Carrie sighed. ‘Anyway, the main reason I wanted to talk to you is I’m going to need some time off.’
‘How long?’
‘Can I possibly extend my annual leave from three weeks to six? Starting at the end of this week? I’m happy to pay for a locum so you won’t be left in the lurch, but I really do need the time to sort things out and try to put things into perspective.’
Max waved his hand. ‘Don’t worry about the locum. But are six weeks going to be long enough?’
‘God, I certainly hope so,’ Carrie said. ‘I’m going to Bristol at the weekend again to check out the flat there I’ve inherited and try to decide what to do with it. And then at some stage I’ve got to get down to Devon to look at the property there.’
Max finished his coffee and put the cup down. ‘I’ll organise a locum tomorrow to start asap for an indefinite period so you can take your time and decide what’s best for you.’
‘Thanks, Max. And don’t worry, I’ll definitely be back at work on the 1st September.’
‘There’s just one thing – Dominic. What does he say about all this?’
‘Nothing,’ Carrie said. ‘But that’s because I haven’t seen him to tell him yet. He’s still in France. And it’s not the sort of thing one drops into a telephone conversation, is it? Oh, by the way, I’ve just been left a fortune by an unknown relative.’
Not that there had been a telephone conversation for the last fortnight. She’d had to make do with a couple of text messages while Dom was away with his children – and his soon to be ex-wife.
A couple of days later Carrie drove her parents to Bristol, where she treated them to lunch before they all made their way to inspect the flat Robert Trumble had left her.
The one-bedroom flat turned out to be on the second floor of a converted Georgian house in one of the roads off Park Street, a short walk from the university. High ceilings and large windows in the sitting room and bedroom gave the place a light and airy feel. Although the flat itself was sparsely furnished, bot
h the kitchen and small bathroom boasted modern appliances.
One long wall of the sitting room was lined with empty bookshelves. A small desk and chair was in front of the window. A coffee table stood on a rug in front of an ancient leather chesterfield settee.
‘It’s a nice flat,’ Elizabeth said. ‘But so impersonal.’
Carrie shrugged. ‘Ari, the lawyer, said the few personal things here have been boxed up and sent down to Devon. His real home. Apparently he only really used this flat when he was up here lecturing.’ She wandered over to the bookcase and ran a finger along a dusty shelf. ‘I forgot to ask what he lectured in.’ She turned to look at her parents. ‘There are so many questions I keep forgetting to ask.’
‘Have you read the letter he left you yet?’ Elizabeth asked quietly. ‘You might find a few answers in there.’
Carrie shook her head. ‘No, not yet. I thought perhaps I’d read it here, today, in his home, where maybe he wrote it, but this place doesn’t feel like it has any connection with him. Maybe I’ll wait until I get to his house in Devon.’
‘Are you going to sell the flat – or keep it?’ Malcolm asked. ‘Being in this area must make it worth a fair bit.’
‘I can’t decide, to be honest,’ Carrie said. ‘I’m not going to want to live here so it would make sense to sell, but maybe I should keep it as an investment. Rent it out. Ari says there’s a huge demand for decent accommodation from the university staff as well as students, of course.’
‘Not a bad idea,’ Malcolm said. ‘You never know what the future might bring.’
‘Oh, Dad,’ Carrie laughed, shaking her head at him. ‘Right now all this is so unexpected – and unwanted, to be honest – that I don’t even want to think about what further surprises the future might hold.’
‘Property is a good safeguard against nasty surprises,’ Malcolm answered, as pragmatic as ever.
*
Time dragged for Karen the afternoon Derek was bringing Wills down. The house was looking good, all five bedrooms were summer ready for guests, and today the fridge was full to bursting point with all Wills’ favourite foods. There was nothing left for her to organise.
She debated joining Hazel and Simon down by the pool for an hour but decided against it. Silly, she knew, but she didn’t want Wills to have to come looking for her – she wanted to be at the house waiting for him. In the end she did some gardening before settling down with her book on the swinging seat under the shade of the ancient oak tree.
But thoughts of Derek kept popping into her subconscious, spoiling her enjoyment of the book. In the end she laid it aside and simply sat gazing out to sea, wondering where the last twenty-five years of her life had gone. Derek had never wanted her to work and she’d happily thrown herself into being a stay-at-home mum, involved one hundred per cent in the children’s lives. Playgroup supervisor, chairperson of the PTA, summer fête organiser, book club organiser, the list went on and on until it dwindled into taxi driver as Francesca and Wills’ social lives took over.
For years she’d been so busy organising everyone, she’d barely noticed her own life disappearing as she grew older. Now, though, with just her and Derek living at home, her life had basically been reduced to working three mornings a week at a local charity shop, and time hung heavily on her hands. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, she decided, settle for that as her future. There had to be more to life for the next, what, thirty years?
Derek had been distant and snappy with her for years now, criticising everything she did when he was home, but travelling more and more on business. He’d become more of a bully too. Not that he hit her or anything. It was what they called in the old days ‘mental cruelty’. She wondered what they called it now. She wondered, too, where the man she’d declared herself to be in love with all those years ago, despite her parents’ unease, had gone.
They rarely did anything together now. The days of theatre visits, meals out, sitting enjoying the same TV programme in the evening had all stopped. They hadn’t held a dinner party for important clients for weeks – in fact, the last one had been before Christmas, Karen realised. Instead, Derek seemed to be going out of his way not to spend any time with her these days. And the long silences when he was around were infuriating to say the least.
Could things be difficult at work? Derek had never been one to discuss business with her apart from the occasional ‘Have you seen what so and so is up to? Bloody fool’. So he was unlikely to respond to her asking, even if she plucked up the courage to ask. As for voicing the niggling thought gaining ground in the forefront of her mind, she didn’t have any real proof to accuse him.
Sitting there in the garden of The Captain’s House, her thoughts tossing around in her mind like a tsunami, she realised she didn’t really like Derek, let alone love him, any more. Deciding to leave things as they were in the hope they’d sort themselves out over the summer was a cop-out. She needed to know where she stood and what the future might hold for her.
Suddenly determined, Karen picked up her book to go indoors. Confronting Derek was now at the top of her personal to do list – however difficult he might make it for her. Whether there would be time this visit remained to be seen.
Wills sent her a text at five o’clock to say they were running late and not to worry – they’d be there in time for dinner. When they did arrive, Karen’s delight at seeing Wills was marred by the atmosphere between her and Derek. Brittle didn’t begin to describe it.
‘So, how was your trip?’ she asked, placing the supper on the table, and glancing at Wills.
‘Nightmare traffic,’ Derek said, before Wills could open his mouth.
‘Actually, I was referring to Wills’ travels,’ Karen said. ‘Not the journey here.’
‘Sorry I spoke,’ Derek snapped.
‘It was great. I’ll tell you all about it later, Mum,’ Wills said, helping himself to shepherd’s pie. ‘Missed your cooking, though.’
Karen smiled. ‘I’ve made your favourite for dessert too. Chocolate mousse.’
‘Won’t be long before you’re out in the world fending for yourself,’ Derek muttered. ‘Be an idea to learn to cook.’
Both Karen and Wills looked at him. Karen spoke first, surprising even herself with her words. ‘Something he’s quite capable of doing better than you, actually. Since when have you known your way around the kitchen? Do tell me, what is the name of your culinary masterpiece? No, wait. I have it. Beans on toast.’
Derek glared at her. ‘You’re the cook in this family. Anyway, I manage okay when you’re down here.’
Karen thought of the empty takeaway packages and pizza boxes she invariably found when she returned after a stay in Devon without Derek, but couldn’t be bothered to argue with him. He was clearly in the mood to pick a fight and she didn’t want to ruin Wills’ first night home.
An uncomfortable silence accompanied the rest of the meal and Karen smothered a sigh of relief when Derek pushed his chair back and stood up. Glancing at the almost empty wine bottle on the table, he took another one from the rack before turning and looking at her.
‘I’m off to Bruce’s. You coming?’
Karen shook her head. ‘I’m a bit tired. I’ll see you later.’ Going to sundowner tonight would mean putting on a show of togetherness with Derek in front of people, and she really didn’t feel up to it.
‘But I do want to talk to you,’ she added.
Derek narrowed his eyes. ‘What about?’
‘I told you before when we agreed to have this trial separation – I’m not happy. We need to… to decide what happens after summer.’
‘Bruce is probably still wallowing in misery over Gabby, so I won’t be late. We’ll talk then.’
‘Gabby’s barely been dead seven months,’ Karen said, looking at him, horrified. ‘Don’t be so insensitive.’
Derek shrugged indifferently before opening the door and stepping out onto the terrace.
‘Trial separation?’ Wills said quietly. ‘Ta
lk?’
Karen sighed. ‘Yes. We both decided… well, I did anyway… that we needed some time apart to think things through and decide what to do now both you and Francesca are all grown up.’ She smiled briefly at Wills. ‘I don’t think either of us has been particularly happy recently.’
‘I don’t know everything you want to talk to Dad about, but promise me you will talk to him – and make him talk to you,’ Wills said, a serious edge to his voice.
Karen looked at him, wondering what he wasn’t saying. She nodded. ‘Okay.’ She started to clear the dinner things, waving Wills away as he went to give her a hand.
‘I’ll do it. I’d say go and join the others for a sundowner but I’m not sure that’s a good idea tonight.’
‘Think I’ll nip down into the village if that’s all right with you,’ Wills said. ‘See if anyone’s about.’
‘I’m sorry your first night back here has been spoilt,’ Karen said. ‘I was so looking forward to it.’
‘Not your fault, Mum,’ Wills said.
Derek wasn’t back by ten and Karen knew the chances of him coming home sober enough to have a rational discussion diminished by the hour. No way was she going to attempt to talk to him when he’d been drinking.
She had a leisurely bath and then went to bed with a book. When she heard Joy and Toby call out ‘Goodnight, everyone’, she closed the book, turned off the bedside light and snuggled down under the duvet, pretending to be asleep when Derek stumbled into the room.
It was Wills who, having realised his parents had failed to talk, twisted the knife at breakfast the next morning with an innocent air. Karen realised afterwards that he’d known exactly what he was doing. Making his father face up to his actions.
‘So, how long d’you reckon it’ll take to sell the house then?’ Wills asked as he helped himself to more coffee.
Karen looked at him, puzzled, before turning to Derek, who’d choked on his own coffee. She waited patiently while he regained his breath.
‘Might have known you wouldn’t keep your mouth shut,’ he said, glaring at Wills.
Summer at Coastguard Cottages Page 4