A Family Recipe

by Veronica Henry

  ‘Here,’ said Gino, handing her a handkerchief. She took it gratefully as Antonia’s Golf appeared at the end of the street that led into the square.

  ‘She’s here,’ said Laura, and raised a hand in farewell as she rushed towards the car.

  ‘Let us know what happens,’ Sadie called after her, but Laura had already opened the car door.

  Inside, Antonia looked as white as a sheet as Laura scrambled into the passenger seat. As Laura shut the door she slammed the car into reverse and backed up the street like a demon. She turned the car round, knocked it into first and drove off, throwing Laura back into her seat with the force of her acceleration.

  ‘Let’s go. I don’t care if I get a speeding fine.’

  33

  Antonia stared at the road ahead while she drove, and filled Laura in on what had happened.

  ‘A heart attack?’

  ‘That’s what the paramedics thought. We won’t know exactly till we get to the hospital.’

  ‘So what happened?’

  ‘He called me about an hour ago. He sounded terrible. To be honest, I thought he was drunk. He said he was in pain. That his chest hurt. I told him to take some painkillers and get some sleep.’

  ‘But a heart attack?’ said Laura. ‘He’s pretty fit, Dom. And he’s not old. He doesn’t smoke. He goes to the gym. Goes running.’

  ‘He hasn’t been. He’s been too busy. And it’s the worry of everything.’ Antonia looked sideways. ‘He hasn’t been sleeping, for a start.’

  ‘You don’t have to tell me. It’s always like this at the end of a job.’ Laura looked at her sharply.

  Antonia didn’t reply for a moment.

  ‘Listen. Laura. Dom and I – we’re not a thing any more. You must know that. I do talk to him because of the legal stuff. In a professional capacity. That’s it.’

  Laura nodded. She believed her. ‘OK.’

  ‘But he does still tell me everything he’s worried about. Because he doesn’t have anyone else.’

  She couldn’t keep the accusation out of her voice.

  ‘I can’t talk to him, can I? After what happened?’ Laura was defensive.

  ‘Yes, but you never did.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That’s always been the problem. He told me you never listened. That you were too caught up with Willow and he felt he couldn’t burden you with his problems.’

  ‘What? Because of my child being ill?’ Laura’s voice rose in indignation.

  ‘I’m not getting at you, Laura.’ Antonia’s voice was gentle. ‘I’m trying to explain. This project was a step too far for Dom but he wanted to prove himself. He thought he could handle it but it was a nightmare from the start.’

  Antonia slowed down at the roundabout, looking at the signs. Laura pointed.

  ‘That’s the quickest way to the hospital at this time of night.’

  ‘I’m not trying to excuse what happened between us. I’m just putting you in the picture. And I think the thought of losing you … you not talking to him, not finding a way to make it work … it was too much.’

  ‘So it’s my fault.’ Laura was tearful.

  ‘No. It’s not. The complete opposite. It’s actually my fault. For encouraging him. For telling him he could do it. For getting him to take out the loan on your house.’ She sighed. ‘I suppose I had too much faith in him.’

  ‘The loan on our house?’ said Laura. ‘What loan?’

  Antonia frowned.

  ‘You knew about that. You signed the papers? I told him he had to have your agreement. You’re joint owners, so he couldn’t do it without your permission.’

  ‘I don’t remember. Maybe he mentioned something. I’m always signing stuff, I never take any notice.’

  Antonia raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, you should. If he doesn’t sell the apartments by the time his loan expires, your house will have to be sold to pay back the loan. So he’s been desperately trying to finish it to get them on the market.’

  Laura’s voice shook. ‘You mean we could lose Number 11?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Antonia.

  ‘I had no idea,’ said Laura. ‘That it was all such a big risk.’

  ‘Of course it was a big risk. You don’t make big money with dead certs.’

  ‘Why the hell didn’t he say something?’ As Laura spoke the words, she knew that Dom had tried. Maybe he hadn’t spelled it out clearly enough, but the signs had been there and she had just ignored them. And that stress might kill him. ‘Oh God, what if he dies?’

  ‘He’s not going to die,’ said Antonia firmly. ‘He’s going to be OK. I know he is. He has to be.’

  In that moment, Laura could see what it was that had drawn Dom to Antonia. It was her certainty and her confidence. She had provided that at a time Laura hadn’t given him the support he needed. She’d been totally wrapped up in Willow, neurotic and needy and difficult, constantly full of anxiety. She could remember him looking at her thinking Is she going to have a meltdown? It can’t have been easy to live with.

  It was only now – now Willow was better, and she was starting to see a future – that she felt stronger.

  As they swung into the hospital car park, she realised just how strong she was going to have to be.

  34

  The hospital was a blur. A blur of sliding doors and lifts and reception desks and people looking at lists while they tried to track down where Dom was.

  ‘I don’t know whether to call the girls. Should I call the girls?’ Laura looked at her phone as they hurried along yet another endless corridor. She didn’t want to wake them in the middle of the night. They were both too far away to get here quickly. There was nothing they could do anyway.

  ‘There’s no point in worrying them yet. And I don’t think Dom would want you to worry them.’

  ‘But what if …?’

  ‘We’ll know more in a few minutes.’

  They reached the Critical Care unit and were directed to seats in yet another endless corridor to wait for news.

  ‘He can’t be dead,’ said Laura. ‘Or they’d have told us.’

  ‘He’s not dead,’ said Antonia.

  A clock with a white face and black numbers stared down at them, expressionless, as its hands moved slowly round. The two of them sat together in silence. Laura texted Sadie to say there was no news.

  ‘This is unbearable.’

  Antonia cleared her throat. ‘If you want me to go …’ she said. ‘I know it’s not really appropriate for me to be here.’

  ‘No. I don’t want to wait on my own.’ Laura looked at her. ‘And it was you who called the ambulance. I need to thank you for that.’

  Antonia gave her a quick smile, then offered her a bottle of water out of her bag. Laura drank from it gratefully. She must still be pretty drunk, she thought, though events had sobered her up quickly. But her thoughts were jumbled and her mouth was dry.

  ‘I’m glad we’ve called a truce,’ said Antonia. ‘Because whatever happens, you’re going to have to step in. Those apartments need to be finished by Christmas and they’re not going to do it by themselves.’

  Laura looked alarmed.

  ‘Surely the bank will understand? If we explain Dom’s ill?’

  Antonia grimaced. ‘Yes, they’ll understand. Then they’ll extend your loan at crippling interest rates you won’t begin to be able to afford.’

  ‘But that’s not fair.’

  ‘No, it’s not fair. It’s business.’

  Laura rubbed her face, trying to take everything in.

  ‘I don’t think I can talk about this right now.’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Antonia, looking flustered. ‘I shouldn’t be talking about business. It’s nerves, I think.’

  ‘It’s OK. It’s better that I know the truth.’

  Antonia put a hand on her arm.

  ‘I’ll do whatever I can to help. You know that.’

  Laura looked at her. ‘I think you’ve done enough. But thank you.’

  She di
dn’t mean to be sharp, but in that moment she felt Antonia was overstepping the mark, and she felt the need to pull rank.

  Antonia’s face crumpled at the barb, her composure gone. She looked incredibly young suddenly. And for all her bravado, out of her depth. She must be frightened, thought Laura.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘This is a weird situation.’

  Antonia composed herself.

  ‘I guess I feel it’s all my fault,’ she admitted.

  Fault, thought Laura. It was such a strange word. How could you point the finger at any one person or any one thing or any one moment and apportion blame? Maybe it was everyone’s fault. Or perhaps it was a perfect storm. A crisis that meant order could be restored.

  She took in a breath, realising that her anxiety was nowhere to be seen. She felt calm. And she was the strong one now. She had to be. She had to step up, for Dom, for the girls, for the family. For the business.

  ‘There’s no point in blaming anyone,’ she said.

  They both turned towards the double doors as a woman stepped out into the corridor. She was in a grey trouser suit, about Laura’s age, attractive but authoritative.

  ‘Mrs Griffin?’

  Laura stood up.

  ‘That’s me.’

  The woman came forward with an outstretched hand.

  ‘I’m Mary Beauchamp. I’ve just examined your husband. He’s stable now but we are going to have to operate first thing tomorrow. He’s going to need a stent fitted as soon as possible.’

  ‘But he’s going to be OK?’

  ‘I think we’ve acted just in time. He’s going to need to take it very easy for a while.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Laura. ‘Thank you,’ she added politely. ‘Can I go and see him?’

  Mary nodded.

  ‘You can have five minutes. But he needs to rest.’

  Laura turned to Antonia, whose eyes were tight shut. There were tears of relief trickling down her cheeks. Laura reached out and put her arms round her.

  The two women held each other tight, united in their relief.

  ‘Go and see him,’ whispered Antonia. ‘Go on.’

  Laura sat, very gingerly, in the seat next to Dom’s bed. The ward was dimly lit and quiet. There were big round suction pads on his chest and endless wires attached to the machines next to him. He looked tired and vulnerable. Not like Dom at all. She felt a surge of tenderness.

  She reached out a hand and laid it on one of his, lacing their fingers.

  His eyes opened slowly. He looked over at her.

  ‘Hello,’ she whispered.

  ‘Laura.’ He seemed surprised. ‘I didn’t think …’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I didn’t think you’d come.’

  ‘Of course I have.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘Antonia called me.’

  ‘Oh.’ He shut his eyes as if to block out this information.

  ‘She’s a good girl,’ Laura told him, and he gave a wan smile.

  ‘I’ve messed everything up,’ he said.

  ‘Shhh. We don’t need to talk about it now.’

  ‘I have. I’ve messed the house up. I’ve messed us up.’

  ‘No,’ said Laura. ‘You haven’t. It’s all going to be fine.’

  ‘Have you told the girls?’

  ‘No. We’ll see how you are tomorrow and decide then what to tell them.’

  She was surprised how calm she felt, how in control she was. How the right thing to do and say was presenting itself logically. Everything was slotting into place. Everything was in perspective.

  Dom didn’t say anything for a moment.

  ‘I’m sorry … for everything.’

  ‘Well. I am too.’

  He frowned, not understanding.

  ‘You don’t get to take all the blame,’ she teased.

  ‘I thought I was going to die,’ he said. ‘And I thought – at least Laura will be rid of me.’

  ‘That’s a terrible thing to say.’

  ‘Can you ever forgive me, do you think?’

  ‘Now, that’s really not fair. You’re lying there all wired up and you ask for forgiveness? That’s emotional blackmail.’

  Her tone was light, but she saw tears spring into his eyes. She bent forward to kiss him.

  ‘Just get better,’ she whispered. ‘Get well, Dom, and we’ll sort everything out. Together. You and me.’

  He looked into her eyes.

  ‘I love you, you know,’ he said. ‘None of this was because I didn’t love you.’

  She looked down at him. There were patches of baldness on his chest where they’d shaved it. She ran her finger over one of them.

  ‘I love you too,’ she said. ‘But more importantly, I love us. You and me and the girls and Kanga and everyone …’

  ‘Oh God. Me too.’

  ‘And that’s what I don’t want to lose. That’s what’s special.’

  ‘We won’t. We can’t.’ His face crumpled. ‘When I was staying at Wellington Buildings, all I could think about was being in our kitchen. Banter, music, cooking. I even missed the arguments …’ He looked up at her. ‘We can get it back, can’t we?’

  She nodded. A lump had come into her throat, because he had described exactly what was important. She wanted to tell him about Gino and Sadie tonight – he’d have loved being part of her matchmaking conspiracy. But now was not the time.

  ‘I think that’s enough now.’ A nurse came over, slightly apologetic.

  Laura stood up.

  ‘I’ll come back in the morning. What time is he in theatre?’

  ‘We won’t know until tomorrow. But he’s urgent, so it should be first thing.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  She took one last look at Dom. He was fast asleep. She was taken back to all those years ago, to the hospital in the ski resort and the hours spent with him, when she had very first fallen in love with him. That had been her fault, the accident. Or had it? She’d always blamed herself, but now she knew life wasn’t that simple; that culpability wasn’t cut and dried; that there were a million sides to every story. And if it wasn’t for the accident, for that time spent together, they probably wouldn’t be together. Everything happened for a reason.

  All that mattered now was that she loved him, her big mountain of a husband.

  When Laura went back out into the corridor, Antonia was nowhere to be seen.

  35

  The following Monday, Laura stood looking up at Wellington Buildings. The sky above was that special cobalt blue that only winter can produce. Against it, the gold of the stone shone bright. The facade had been painstakingly cleaned – the last time she had seen it, it had been streaked with sooty black and murky grey. Now, it looked as splendid as the day it had been built. The casement windows had been freshly painted white, the guttering was black, the front door a pale pinky biscuit. The glass of the windows glittered and winked.

  She felt a swell of pride. Dom had restored the tired, neglected building to its former glory with love and care. It was a triumph.

  There was, of course, still work to be done, the final details, the snagging; and they were still waiting for the delivery of some of the bespoke fittings. Laura was determined to see the project through. There was no way she was going to let Dom fall at the last fence.

  And she felt confident. Somehow, her minor achievements had combined to give her a self-belief she hadn’t felt before. A sense that anything was achievable if you wanted it enough and worked hard enough for it.

  She walked inside. Her breath was taken away. The stone staircase curved in front of her, the same gold as the facade. The floor tiles had been restored and polished, intricate jewelled patterns in blue and black and pink. A magnificent chandelier swing overhead, its droplets shimmering.

  He had done this. Her Dom had done this. It was up to her to make sure every ounce of blood, sweat and tears he had put into it paid off.

  She walked into the drawing room of the ground-floor apartment. All the workmen employed on the
project stood in a shuffling cluster. They exchanged bemused glances as Laura came in.

  ‘I feel a bit like a headmistress,’ she told them, laughing. ‘But I’m not here to tell you off. Far from it. Firstly, I want to thank all of you. I know Dom loves working with you, because that’s why he’s chosen you to be part of his team. And what you have all done here is amazing. Truly amazing. I hope you are as proud of it as we are.’

  She looked around at them all.

  ‘As you know, Dom went into hospital at the weekend. He suffered a heart attack. He had a stent fitted yesterday, and he’s going to be in hospital for a few more days, then home to recuperate. He’s not going to be on site for quite some time. So you have the pleasure of me at the helm.’ She smiled. ‘I’m going to have to trust you guys to get me through this. Come and tell me if you’ve got any problems. If this is a success, we can go on to greater things, all of us. I really hope you can pull together, to do this for Dom. It would be great if we could get this signed off by Christmas. I’ve booked us all in for a slap-up Christmas dinner at the Wellington Arms in anticipation. I want us all there, job done, raising our glasses. I know it’s going to be hard work, but I’m not afraid, and I hope you aren’t either.’

  Afterwards, she walked through the house, talking to each of them in turn about what they were doing and what needed to be done. The response was heart-warming. Their affection and respect for Dom was palpable, and again she felt pride.

  At the top of the house, she found the blow-up bed and sleeping bag Dom had been sleeping in. Swiftly, she deflated the bed and rolled up the bag, stuffing them into a black bin liner. She’d throw it in the skip on the way out.

  That part of their lives was over now.

  ‘I need some time off,’ said Antonia. ‘Not exactly compassionate leave. Or sick leave. But it’s important to me. For my … personal development.’

  James Kettle looked at her across the boardroom table.