Homecomings

by Marcia Willett

  Lucy thinks of her father, that genial, jolly, affectionate man, who was rather like a much-loved uncle or some other relative, rather than a parent. He exercised no fatherly rights, demanded nothing of her except her happiness and affection, and she’d loved him very dearly. He’d comforted her when she was unhappy, rejoiced in her successes, was continually amazed by her cleverness at passing exams, and told her how beautiful she was. Yes, OK, he was vain, insecure, and loved attention, but he hurt nobody and most people adored him. She is very sad that he never knew Tom or saw Dan. He would have been so proud of both of them; so happy for her. Nevertheless, if her mother wants to renew an old friendship Lucy feels quite cool with that. And he seemed such a nice man, very dishy; so struck with the resemblance between her and her mother. Perhaps he’d been in love with her, back in the day.

  If she’s honest, she knows that she’s ready to encourage it because she feels just the least bit guilty about the way she and Tom have taken the opportunities offered in their work and moved away to Geneva. It’s a bit tough for her mum to be left behind but Tom’s promotion was simply too good to miss. Maybe renewing an old friendship will fill a few gaps and will make the prospect of coming down to Cornwall to stay at the cottage even more attractive.

  Lucy is suddenly aware that Dan has become very still and quiet. As she looks at him she sees his eyes grow round and thoughtful, his face turns a rather peculiar colour and he holds his breath. She knows that she is looking at someone who is about to do a gigantic poo. Leaping to her feet, she seizes him and hurries him out of the sitting-room and up the stairs.

  Later, after breakfast, Emilia, Lucy and Daniel catch the ferry across to Padstow and wander in the town. Dan loves the ferry; loves to be on the water. He shouts at the seagulls and waves at people in the other boats that sail or motor past. The town is busy now that the Bank Holiday has begun and Lucy buys an ice cream for Dan, sits him in his buggy and pushes him towards the harbour.

  ‘Watch out for seagulls,’ Emilia warns. ‘I’m going to buy a paper.’

  She’s folding the paper so that it will fit into her bag, pushing it in, when two men come round the corner at the end of the street and stop, talking together, as if deciding on some course of action. As she looks up and sees them she gives an intake of breath so sharp it’s as if she’s cut herself. It’s Jamie she recognizes first. Hugo is slightly shorter, there’s a lot of grey in his hair and his face is fuller, though he’s still a very attractive man. But Jamie looks tough, slightly dangerous, with the familiar wary, assessing look, his head tilted very slightly to the left. He’d always stood like that; as if he were ready for action. She stares at them in amazement, unprepared for such a reaction, though this is something she’s been expecting, waiting for, during this last week.

  They finish conferring and Jamie turns away and disappears down a side street. Hugo is coming towards her but now panic overcomes her and she moves back into the doorway, head down, pretending to be searching for something in her bag. Hugo strides past and she watches him moving on amongst the visitors, and she wonders if he would have recognized her. If Lucy hadn’t spoken of him would she have known him? All she can think of is Jamie. She hadn’t expected to be so affected by the sight of him. And she knows now that she doesn’t want him to be prepared by Hugo, ready for her, as it were. She wants to be able to pick her moment, to come upon him when he is alone. But how is it to be done?

  It occurs to her that if Jamie and Hugo had walked round that corner a few moments earlier they might have seen Lucy. Hugo might have spoken to her, introduced them, and Jamie would have seen Daniel. Emilia’s gut churns and she takes quick, deep breaths. Even now Jamie might come walking back; Lucy might be strolling across the road, pushing Dan in his buggy.

  Emilia can see now how important it is to be in control, not just wandering about and leaving things to chance. She needs to be prepared. Her mind darts and flicks about, trying to see how a meeting with Jamie might be managed but meanwhile she needs to get Lucy and Daniel on to the ferry. And all the while she’s remembering how Jamie stood there, with his head tilted on one side, looking at Hugo. How could she have forgotten how he used to stand like that; how sexy he was?

  Once again the memory comes out of the blue: Hugo’s room in Bristol, the ‘Widmung’ playing, the door opening and Jamie coming in, and the way she got to her feet in one quick, smooth movement. As she hurries across to the harbour, looking for Lucy amongst the jostle of tourists, she tries to remember why she ever left him. She loved him so much. Was it the separations, the dreary married quarters, the other wives with whom she had so little in common? It’s difficult to remember now why she fled so often to the chaotic theatrical London life or why Nigel captivated her so easily. It occurs to her, like a blow to the heart, that Jamie might be happily married with a family, but she thrusts the thought away. It must all be as it was before, back then in Bristol. Hugo and Jamie, unattached and ready for love.

  She spots Lucy standing by the harbour wall, pointing to something, and she sees Dan’s arm outstretched, copying her. Emilia hurries towards them, calling Lucy’s name, trying to think of a really good reason for going back to Rock so soon. Lucy sees her and waves, turning the pushchair so that Dan will see her, too.

  ‘I was just thinking,’ says Emilia, as she gets into earshot, ‘that it’s a bit busy here, isn’t it? I was wondering if we might drive up on to the moor to see the ponies. We could take a picnic. What d’you think? Would you like to see the ponies, Danny?’

  Dan’s face beams with delight at the prospect and he shouts, ‘Ponies, ponies,’ and Lucy smiles and shrugs.

  ‘OK,’ she says. ‘If that’s what he’d like. It is a bit overwhelming, isn’t it?’

  ‘We’d probably have to queue for lunch,’ says Emilia, trying to hide her relief. ‘Let’s dash back to the ferry and I’ll make up a picnic and we’ll get out of all these crowds.’

  Luckily there are only a few people waiting for the ferry, and soon they are on the boat and heading towards Rock. Emilia stares aft at the busy town, wondering where Jamie and Hugo are, trying to imagine how and where she might be able to effect a meeting. Luckily, Lucy and Danny are going back to Geneva tomorrow – this has been just a quick dash to check up on the work in the kitchen – and she will be free again to patrol the local places.

  ‘What’s the name of the pub you mentioned?’ she asks casually, as they disembark and walk back to the cottage. ‘I haven’t tried it yet.’

  ‘The Chough,’ Lucy answers. ‘We should go while I’m here. I saw that friend of yours there. Hugo, is it?’

  ‘Yes,’ she answers calmly. ‘Hugo. Never mind. When you come next time, perhaps. It’ll be nicer for Dan up on the moor today. You get Dan sorted while I do the picnic.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  ‘POOR BEN,’ OBSERVES Adam, as he and Dossie make the detour to the pub to pick up Ben. ‘Rather daunting, isn’t it, to be confronted by all these people?’

  ‘Well, he knows us all,’ says Dossie. ‘It’s not as if we’re strangers.’

  ‘It’s a bit different, though, isn’t it? He’s only met you as customers in The Chough, not at a private party en masse.’

  ‘He’ll be fine,’ says Dossie robustly. ‘Ben’s a sweetie but he’s tough. And Prune will be there.’

  ‘But isn’t that worse?’ suggests Adam. ‘To be there with your girlfriend and everyone looking at you. It’s not as if we’re their contemporaries. It’s like having four fathers looking at you.’

  That’s how he would feel, thinks Dossie, watching her brother’s hands tighten on the wheel. And the terrible thing is that, even now, the memory fills him with a kind of dread. How sad is that?

  ‘I can’t quite see all of you in that light,’ she comments. ‘Well, Hugo and Jamie might tease him unmercifully but nobody’s going to be judging him. We all love Ben. And Prune. It’s a pity his car has let him down. It’s a bit of a banger but at least he has wheels and he might have p
referred to have the option to leave when he feels like it rather than being dependent on us. But there we are. And at least it’s one less vehicle to park on the quay.’

  ‘I will admit,’ says Adam, ‘that I rather covet Jamie’s MGB. I bet it costs him a fortune to keep it running. Those old classic cars just eat money. But I imagine he can afford it.’

  ‘I suppose he can,’ she answers casually.

  Dossie’s wondering why she has no wish to talk about Jamie, to discuss him. She’s trying to work out how she feels about him. He drove over to The Court yesterday, early in the evening, following a text from Hugo:

  We need more wine glasses. Can you help us out, please? x

  She smiled at the request. Hugo is notorious for smashing glasses, dropping plates, and she tapped out her reply knowing it would make him smile:

  As long as someone else does the washing up. x

  She didn’t expect Jamie to turn up, unaccompanied. She and Adam were in the garden when he drove in. She heard the engine, the slam of the car door, and walked round the side of the house to come face to face with him.

  ‘Oh,’ she said inadequately. ‘Hello.’

  His eyes crinkled up with amusement. ‘Hello,’ he said. ‘I’m here on a glass-collection mission.’

  Furious with herself for allowing him to see her confusion she tried to pull herself together.

  ‘Oh, gosh. Sorry. I didn’t realize that Hugo needed them now. I assumed we’d bring them with us tomorrow.’

  ‘He’s doing that housewifely thing,’ Jamie said. ‘You know? Prepping madly. Dragging out all the non-matching plates and tutting over them and counting the two clean spots in Roo’s feeder.’

  She laughed then. ‘Wasn’t it Tigger’s feeder?’

  ‘Damn,’ he answered. ‘I think you could be right.’

  ‘Come and meet Adam,’ she said. ‘We were just about to have a drink. Would you like to join us?’

  Even as she asked the question she remembered what Hugo had told her about Jamie’s problem with alcohol; how quickly even small amounts affected him. She was embarrassed, wishing she’d been more tactful, but he looked quite calm.

  ‘Not when I’m driving, thanks,’ he said.

  Adam was standing, waiting for her to reappear, and as she introduced them and they shook hands, she cast around in her mind for what she might offer Jamie to drink, hoping he wouldn’t just take the glasses and go, but when he turned back to her she knew that he was aware of her dilemma.

  ‘Do you have any tonic water?’ he asked. ‘That would be good,’ and she was able to pull herself together and say, ‘Ice and a slice?’ as Ben does at the pub.

  ‘Ice and a slice,’ he answered. ‘Definitely.’

  She went inside, into the kitchen, and poured some tonic into a glass and added a slice of lemon and some ice. She then stood for a moment, telling herself that she was a complete idiot, before she went back to join them in the garden.

  ‘I’ve got a boxful of a dozen wine glasses,’ she told him. ‘They come in useful when I’m catering for a party. They’re not very special because of breakages but they should do the trick.’

  ‘Finish your drink,’ he suggested. ‘There’s no hurry. I love your garden. This wisteria is amazing. It must be a devil to keep pruned.’

  She looked at him, surprised. ‘Are you a gardener?’

  ‘Not much of one but enough to know that you have to look after one of these to get this kind of effect. My mother was a ferocious gardener and I learned never to make the same mistake twice when it came to pruning. She took no prisoners.’

  ‘Ours was much the same,’ Adam answered. ‘Three strikes and you were out.’

  They all laughed, and now, as they drive in The Chough’s car park, Dossie remembers how pleased she was to hear Adam talk with amusement and affection about Mo. Ben is waiting, looking smart but casual in a pair of black jeans and a cotton shirt. He waves to them as they pull up beside him and he opens the back door and climbs in.

  Prune waits anxiously for Ben to arrive whilst trying to appear cool. It’s one thing everyone knowing Ben at the pub but it’s a bit different inviting him here and having to behave naturally. Luckily, Adam’s a bit of a new boy, too, and she’s hoping that having him here will take the heat off a bit. Adam’s never been to the house before so that will cause a bit of a distraction. She rather liked Adam when she met him at The Chough that time they all had lunch together, though she sensed that he wasn’t quite so much at ease as he was acting. Once or twice she caught an odd expression on his face, as if he were surprised to find himself there; as if this were not a normal situation for him. She is so used to the super confidence of her older brothers that it is always rather sweet to see a man who is slightly unsure of himself. It was this touch of vulnerability that drew her to Ben: a sensitivity behind the ready laughter and the jokes. Sometimes it’s good not always to be on your toes, ready for the quick response, though she enjoys the banter, too.

  She likes listening to Jamie and Hugo, who occasionally behave like teenagers. Yesterday she caught them playing Rock, Paper, Scissors.

  ‘Oh, honestly,’ she said. ‘I don’t believe this. How old are you?’

  They’d looked a bit embarrassed – but only a bit.

  ‘We used to play it to see which of us would get the last Malteser,’ Jamie said.

  ‘And don’t say what good memories we’ve got,’ warned Hugo. ‘We’re not that old.’

  Prune wanders out into the courtyard. It’s going to be an early party with drinks and nibblies, and then a buffet supper. Rose has helped to organize it but Jamie and Hugo are surprisingly efficient, though they use different tactics. Hugo has a slapdash but creative approach whilst Jamie deals with it rather as if it is a military exercise. Between them everything is done and ready, Rose has gone home, and Prune glances at her watch again and wishes they could get started.

  Hugo appears suddenly at her elbow, holding a bottle. ‘How about a few bubbles?’ he suggests. ‘Just to get us started.’

  She nods, smiling at him. The front door opens, Dossie calls out and the dogs start to bark, and suddenly Prune relaxes. She knows that it’s all going to be fun.

  Ned sits at the wrought-iron table in the courtyard with his gin and tonic, and observes the scene. Hugo and Dossie have taken control and are making certain that everyone has a drink, and Ben seems very much at ease and is clearly enjoying being waited on for a change.

  ‘You could have a job at The Chough any time,’ he says jokingly to Dossie, who shakes her head at him.

  ‘I’d be useless,’ she says. ‘I’m OK working on my own but it would all be too fast for me.’

  ‘But Prune tells us that you’re really into IT,’ Jamie says to him and, whilst he and Ben talk about modern technology, Prune begins to talk to Adam about the dogs who are milling about, hoping for attention, and Dossie sits down for a moment opposite Ned and raises her glass to him.

  ‘I’m only allowed a small one,’ she tells him, ‘because I’m driving. I thought Adam might need an extra bit of Dutch courage.’

  ‘Oh, come on,’ protests Ned. ‘We’re not that frightening, are we?’

  ‘Definitely scary,’ answers Dossie solemnly. ‘I was terrified when I first met you.’

  He laughs at her. ‘Rubbish. I remember it perfectly well and you were entirely composed and made some very rude comments about the state of the kitchen.’

  ‘Did I?’ She looks rather pleased; as if he has paid her a compliment. ‘Oh, good. That’s OK, then.’

  Ned studies her, liking the pretty long skirt she’s wearing; a change from her usual jeans. Oddly it makes her seem more vulnerable; feminine rather than sexy. She’s such a pretty woman. Instinctively he glances at Jamie, who is still talking to Ben. He is quite certain that he is not deceived about the attraction between them but they are both playing it very cool. At this moment Hugo refills Ben’s glass and Jamie turns away and catches Ned’s eye. He strolls towards them and Ned t
ries to think of something that will keep Dossie sitting there, protected from the look on Jamie’s face that has something focused and determined about it.

  ‘I wondered,’ Ned says quickly, ‘whether you ever take a holiday? I don’t remember you having one ever since we’ve known you.’

  ‘It’s crazy,’ Dossie answers, unaware that Jamie is close behind her. ‘I never seem to get time for one. And I’m always at my busiest at holiday times because of the visitors.’

  ‘But where,’ persists Ned, ‘would you like to go most if you had the time? If you could choose?’

  As Dossie deliberates Jamie moves a little nearer.

  ‘She’d go to Land’s End,’ he says, smiling down at her. ‘Wouldn’t you?’

  As she glances up at him her cheeks flush bright with colour and Ned feels oddly excluded, almost as if he is eavesdropping on some private moment between them. To his relief Mort barges up, breaking the spell, and Dossie hastens to bend to stroke him, almost as if she is grateful for the interruption. Ned experiences a whole mix of emotions: irritation, confusion, envy. It’s clear that Jamie is in control here and Ned resents it whilst also sympathizing. He was just the same when he was younger – ready to seize an advantage – unlike Hugo, who is now suggesting that some food might be a good plan.

  ‘Shall I bring some out to you, Uncle Ned?’ he suggests.

  But Ned shakes his head, irritated by the implication that he’s too old to fetch his own supper.

  ‘Thanks, but I can manage to get to the kitchen,’ he answers, and then regrets his grumpiness. ‘I need to see what’s on offer,’ he says.

  He picks up his stick and smiles at Hugo, who follows him with Mort at his heels.

  Jamie looks at Dossie. He draws down his mouth at the corners and gives a tiny facial shrug. He knows that she has noticed Ned’s sharp retort and he invites her complicity but almost at once regrets it. Ned is her host and an older man, and he knows he’s behaving just the least bit childishly. He can’t seem to help himself. Her presence acts on him like a stimulant and he wants to impress, to amuse. The reference to Land’s End was to remind her of the moment in The Chough; to build on their budding relationship. It’s just so good to have something positive and exciting in his life that he’s in danger of behaving foolishly. But she smiles at him as she gets up.