Love, Lies and Lemon Cake

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Love, Lies and Lemon Cake Page 12

by Jayne Bartholomew


  Mark watched her leave, an emptiness creeping over him along with a strong suspicion that he’d just made the wrong decision.

  Camilla found the pills as she was going through her husband’s trousers on the housewife’s eternal hunt for errant tissues. They were blue and a slightly strange diamond shape with writing on. She tried holding the bottle up to the light to read the label but her glasses were in another room and the small print escaped her.

  Her first thought was that Paul had deceived her by hiding a medical condition that could perhaps be used as leverage in the eternal one-upmanship struggle among her friends. That thought was followed by a mild resentment that he had managed to get something worthy of pill popping before her. Resentment was followed by annoyance that she would have to discuss this matter with him at some point and would probably have to fake sympathy. She sighed heavily; it wasn’t easy being a good wife.

  She got the chance to discuss the matter sooner than expected. Paul arrived in search of golf clubs and Camilla waved the pills in front of him.

  “Well? When were you going to tell me about these?”

  Paul sat down heavily at the kitchen table and stared at the Viagra his wife thrust in front of him. “What do you think they are?”

  “How should I know, I’m not a doctor! Is there something wrong with you?”

  “No! They’re for… constipation. If I take one and go out for a brisk walk I’m as right as rain. Although, there’s some mild discomfort which is why I prefer to walk it off rather than put you through my complaining.”

  “Are you better now?”

  “Yes, dear. Do you think I could have the pills back though, just in case?”

  Camilla experienced a rare flash of inspiration. “No, I think you just need more roughage in your diet. Pills aren’t healthy; I’ll dispose of these for you and pick up some castor oil at the chemists. It will be out of my way but I suppose I’ll have to find the time.”

  Paul resolved, not for the first time, that he needed to speak to a solicitor to find out what his rights would be if he ever decided to leave his wife.

  While making her way to the pharmacy Camilla had a turn of good luck. In broad daylight, in front of anyone who cared to notice, she caught Luke in what was clearly a passionate embrace with another man outside of his antique shop.

  Opportunities like this didn’t come her way every day and she knew that careful planning was required to fully maximise the potential damage such a piece of information could do.

  Camilla knew that it wasn’t enough for her to demonstrate, on a daily basis, how much better her life was than others; the others must fail to truly highlight the differences between them.

  She smiled as a plan formed. The husband of her strongest rival for the village fete cake baking competition was a perverted philanderer and in her bag she held a pill bottle containing laxatives. This was all useful.

  As plans go, the one that came to her mind was somewhat crude, yet she had no doubt it would be effective.

  “I really must put some more grit down in front of my shop,” said Luke as he helped his disabled customer into the car. “The ice is really bad around here; are you all right?”

  The customer moved awkwardly into the driver’s seat and nodded. “Thanks for steadying me. I should’ve worn shoes with a better grip.” He gently put his purchases onto the passenger seat and shook Luke’s hand. “I’ll be back for more shopping when the weather’s a little kinder. Good bye.”

  Luke gave the car a cheerful wave as it drove off and thought how nice it was to be surrounded by such pleasant people.

  Penny skimmed her hands over the cardboard packaging and felt them tingle with anticipation. She had won a new bone china dining set for ten people and a matching Le Creuset kitchen set. The elegant design on the crockery complemented the blue of the Le Creuset and for a wild moment she considered never using either set, but to have them in a display cabinet, where she could admire and dust them occasionally.

  She ran a kitchen knife down the tape and lifted the first piece out of the box. The dinner plate was so delicate she wondered if she would ever be brave enough to use a knife on it. Penny went to put it down on the kitchen table and paused.

  As if for the first time she saw her table, full of paperwork and miscellaneous droppings that never seemed to quite make it to where they were supposed to go. There was no way she could put the china down on that mess.

  Putting the plate back in the box she got a dustbin bag and began to dispose of the out-of-date papers. Then she grabbed an empty laundry basket and scooped up the items that should have gone somewhere else. A woman on a mission, Penny went through the house putting the clutter away.

  The table looked a lot bigger with nothing on it, but it also looked scuffed and unloved. Shabby chic may be all right for towns but those in the country know that shabby just means shabby.

  Penny got on her hands and knees to rummage in the cleaning box under the sink until she found the tub of wood polish, unopened after seven years, and two clean cloths.

  Re-waxing the table was strangely calming, almost meditative, giving Penny time to think about where the plates could be kept long-term. Would it be reckless to use them all the time? Was there any point in having such lovely things but using chipped and repaired old things out of fear?

  She dismissed the idea of “accidently” breaking an old plate a day until forced to use the new ones, but plate smashing in general? Wasn’t that part of a village fete entertainment?

  Arms aching from waxing on and waxing off, Penny chucked the dirty cloths and now half-empty tin of wax back in the cupboard and started unpacking the new acquisitions. Each piece seemed lovelier than the last. Once the box was empty she filled it with her old dinner service, wrapping each piece carefully, before re-taping the box and using a marker pen to label it “fete plate smashing stall”. Edward would be pleased to see her taking an interest this year.

  Penny wasn’t too sure how to get the prize past her husband this time but she was at peace with not telling him about her gambling. He might have come home on Valentine’s night apologetic but that wasn’t cutting the mustard with her at the moment. For now her husband believed she’d found a charity shop that was not only amazing value but also had top-of-the-range items in colours or sizes that coordinated with the rest of the house. That is, if he noticed anything at all.

  She was nudged out of her musings by a phone call from Ruth.

  “Hello, dear.”

  “Hi, Ruth.”

  “I was just wondering if you wouldn’t mind picking me up some more milk next time you pop in? I thought I had enough but Geoff does like a hot chocolate of an evening and borrowed my milk because he ran out.”

  “Yes, of course, not a problem. The crockery and pots I told you about have just arrived, and they’re beautiful, really delicate. I’ve decided to donate all my old chipped stuff to the village fete.”

  “I’ll look forward to seeing them. What did the vicar say?”

  “I haven’t told him yet. I suppose the truth is bound to come out at some point but… oh, hang on, I can see him coming up the path!” Penny’s pulse sped up, the table was full of the beautiful china and pans, there was no time or space to hide them. “He’s going to find out and he’ll be so angry! What should I say?”

  The door opened.

  Ruth thought quickly. “Tell him I gave them to you, tell him they came from my old house and I’ve not got the room any more so I’ve given them to you because I knew you’d appreciate it.”

  Penny pulled the phone away from her ear and whispered to her husband. “Hi dear, I’m just on the phone with Ruth. Um, saying thank you for giving us this amazing dinner set.”

  Edward looked at the kitchen table with a dazed expression. For a moment Penny wondered if the clear table was causing more shock than hundreds of pounds of china.

  “So, thank you again, Ruth. It’s amazingly kind of you.” Penny heard laughing at the other end.r />
  Edward picked up a pan, turned it upside down and showed the label to Penny as in questioning.

  “It’s such a shame you had your fall before you had a chance to use any of it,” continued Penny, praying there wasn’t a special punishment for people who lied to vicars.

  “Yes, I really must try not to be so wasteful mustn’t I?” Ruth laughed again.

  Penny watched Edward pick up the box of old crockery and take it into the garage. Since they didn’t have a big car it was the perfect place to store the fete equipment and donated items. “He’s gone. Phew, that was close. I’m going to have to tell him what’s happening eventually but it’s been going on so long now I’m terrified that he’s going to be grumpy with me.”

  “Well, dear, I suggest you find a way of telling him sooner rather than later because there’s something I actually have won that I can’t use and it would be perfect for the two of you.”

  “Oh wow, you really are having the most amazing luck! What have you won now?”

  “A luxury holiday for two in Thailand.”

  “Say that again?”

  “I’ve won flights and accommodation for two people to go to Thailand. I did ask Geoff if he fancied it, I think he’s met someone although he denies it, but apparently he can’t take the time off. I couldn’t possibly manage the flight or heat, which leaves you and Edward.”

  Penny sat down heavily on a kitchen chair and burst into tears.

  “Penny? Penny, are you there?”

  “That’s incredible; I don’t know what to say. Please, there has to be something I can do for you. This is all so generous!”

  “Well, I’ve been invited to a gallery opening next month. Geoff hates them and I don’t want to go alone, could you come with me? He’s offered to do the driving.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “It’s a very smart affair, so you’ll probably need a dress.”

  “I have a gorgeous one that I won last week. It hasn’t been delivered yet but it looked very smart on the internet.”

  “Perfect. Pop around when you have a moment and I’ll show you the details of the holiday.”

  Edward returned to the kitchen and stopped when he saw his wife’s tear-stained face. Her emotional highs and lows had always been something of a mystery to him but recently he’d begun to wonder if perhaps there was a medical reason behind it. Either that or she’d fallen out with Geoff? Hope springs eternal, he thought.

  Catching him staring at her, Penny invented again. “So sorry to hear about your bereavement, Ruth, I’ll come over straight away.”

  “He’s back, isn’t he?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re really going to have to tell him about this one.”

  “I know. Bye, Ruth.”

  Edward waited until Penny had put the phone down and then gave her a cuddle. “Are you OK?”

  “Hmm, just need to nip over and see Ruth.”

  “You’re over there a lot these days. The plates are nice but I hope she’s not abusing your good nature and friendship.”

  “Oh no, absolutely not.”

  “Because material items really aren’t important in the end, what really counts is family and loved ones.”

  “I know.”

  “Actually, that’s what the sermon’s going to be about on Sunday. How expensive items and thrills are false highs and simple pleasures with people you’ve committed to are what counts. I hope you’re coming?”

  Penny hesitated. He never usually asked her to join him, her heart sank; this was something she couldn’t get out of.

  “Of course, dear. It sounds like a crowd pleaser.”

  “I hope so. It’s really time people concentrated on what they have around them rather than chasing after excitement elsewhere.”

  “Yes, dear.” She gave him a peck on the cheek before grabbing her handbag and walking out of the door. Inside her stomach was churning; how on earth was she going to explain the holiday to him?

  Edward was in full swing in front of his congregation. He felt he’d pitched the tone just right and certainly the regular church-goers seemed to be lapping up his tough approach. Granted he could spot a few of the younger ones checking their phones when they thought no one was looking but all in all it was going well. He hoped Penny understood what the sermon was really about.

  Penny had mentally drifted off. It was an appalling habit of hers that she’d never shared with anyone but she found her husband’s voice quite relaxing, he’d really worked on the tone and delivery of his sermons, and if she wasn’t careful she found herself slipping into a daydream. The current daydream involved the two of them sipping cocktails on a warm beach, with no interruptions and no obligations.

  Mark had decided to join Pam and the kids for his first church service since leaving the village. He’d felt a strange feeling as he sat down with them and was trying very hard not to give it a name. It felt like family.

  He stole a look at Pam who smiled back. There’d been no mention of the Valentine’s Day kiss and the next morning she’d acted as though nothing had changed between them. She was a better actress than he was, or maybe it really didn’t mean that much to her, either way he found himself spending less time at the pub. He didn’t think he could resist her a second time.

  As Edward elaborated on his subject, Mark broke out in a cold sweat somewhere around the middle of the sermon and the bit about growing old with someone you had so much in common with. As far as he could establish, the only thing he shared with Tamara was a need for oxygen and if she could find a way of limiting that he was fairly confident she’d do it. Could he really spend the rest of his life with someone so… so… dull? There, he’d said it. Dear Lord, but spending time with her was boring. If he really had to spend the rest of eternity with someone who could take a week to read a page of a magazine then he’d rather drown in the christening font right now, thank you very much. With the wedding looming, these thoughts were inconvenient, to say the least.

  Babs sat slightly awkwardly on the hard plastic-lined armchair next to Laura’s bed and gazed down at the inert body, wondering how to start. Carefully balancing a plastic coffee cup on the arm of the chair, she took out the Tupperware container from her bag and put a freshly baked cake on the locker next to Andy’s weekly flower offering and the latest half-eaten box of chocolates. The room instantly filled with the scent of comfort and fought valiantly with the ingrained scent of antiseptic.

  “I’ve bought you a coffee and walnut cake. I wasn’t sure what you preferred but my Luke’s partial to nuts so the cupboard’s always well stocked. Mind you, Luke’s not terribly fussy about his food. As long as it’s hot and in front of him I could probably serve fried green caterpillars and he wouldn’t do more than ask for the salt. Everyone’s spoken highly of the coffee here so I thought they might go well together.” Babs played with one of the flowers.

  “Your mum’s doing a sterling job looking after your husband but anyone can see that Andy’s lost without you. A real love match, you two, just like my Luke and me. He’s just booked a holiday for later on in the year and I shall miss him horribly, I don’t know where I’d be without him. Really, I couldn’t have found anyone that I’d have got on better with or who understands me as well as he does.”

  Babs fished around in her bag, took out a knife and cut herself a generous slice of cake. “When we first got together he said it worked so well because we were both broken and if you fit two broken pieces together you get a whole. He was right too. I’ve never felt safer than when he came into my life and he adopted my little boy faster than you could blink.” She wiped some crumbs from her lap and took a sip of coffee, wincing at the heat. “Funny, I don’t think I’ve told anyone all this before. He’s been a wonderful father. I met him when I was waitressing and had just found out I was pregnant, we got chatting and just never stopped! Neither of us like being on our own and the future’s a scary place without someone on your side. Anyway, we were married within two months and sa
id our baby was premature.

  “Bless him, but he was a small baby. As soon as the nurse laid him in my arms I knew there was something wrong. Luke was crying with happiness but he knew it too. We cared for him until he got too much for us to handle and then Luke found somewhere that was like an adventure camp with soft corners. I know he had to sell off some family heirlooms to pay for it but he never mentioned it, not once.” Another sip of coffee.

  “We tried being a normal couple,” another bite of cake, “but it didn’t really suit us; I’m not exactly Luke’s type and to be honest I can’t be doing with the physical side of a relationship. Thing is, we trust each other one hundred per cent with anything, and nothing and no one is going to come between us. Luke has his little interests and I have my tea shop and life just goes on. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  March

  Penny raced around the bedroom trying to find something to wear for the gallery opening. The dress she had been planning on wearing had arrived in good time but she knew as soon as she opened the box that it wasn’t meant for someone like her.

  Annoyingly, all her clothes seemed to have become baggy thanks to distractions causing her to forget to eat. As she darted across the room to have another futile rummage through the wardrobe, her foot caught on the thin dress box she had hidden under the bed. She paused. Obviously it wouldn’t fit. People like Penny didn’t wear things like that; they belonged on the beautiful people of the world. People like Penny wore hand-me-downs and jumble sale rejects. Penny picked up the box.

  She shouldn’t even try to put it on, it would cling to every bump, every flaw that she saw only too well in the mirror by the bathroom. She would look like an overstuffed sausage. Penny lifted up the box lid and stroked the feather-light material that nestled, tantalisingly, in front of her.

  As the silky cool fabric slipped down her body she breathed in the heady scent of new material and closed her eyes at the sheer indulgence of it. When she opened them again she saw her reflection and high spots of colour flooded her cheeks.

 

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