by Susan Lewis
‘Tell me about it,’ Michael groaned, passing John the wine Simon had just handed him. ‘Simon and I are having our first lesson tomorrow. Maybe you should join us. It would make more sense if we learned together how to make complete chumps of ourselves.’
With an uncertain glance at Simon, John said, ‘I’m not sure … Well, I guess I’m game if you are.’
‘Of course he is,’ Sarah leapt in. ‘We’ll get it worked out. Now, shall we go into the garden? There are plenty of snacks, and Michael’s volunteered to go for pizzas later if anyone’s still hungry.’
‘I have?’ he said. ‘I have,’ and returning her mischievous wink, he followed Lucy and the others out to the terrace.
‘Not so fast,’ Sarah hissed, yanking Simon back. ‘You promised to be civil …’
‘What have I done?’ he protested.
‘You know very well that you’re making him uncomfortable, and I’m ashamed of you. He’s a guest in our home and deserves to be treated …’
‘All right, all right, enough with the lecture. I’ll try harder, will that suit?’
‘Only if you mean it. Now go and talk to Lucy. At least with her I can feel confident you’ll behave.’
‘Ah, there you are,’ Philippa said cheerily, as Simon came to join them on the terrace. ‘We were just admiring the garden, and this very splendid view.’
Simon smiled weakly as he followed her gaze. ‘The garden’s a bit of a mess these days,’ he said, ‘but it’s always been a special place for us.’
‘I can quite understand why. Perhaps you’ll tell us something of what it was like growing up here,’ she suggested.
‘Oh, Pippa, I’m sure …’
Ignoring her brother, Philippa said, ‘You have another sister, I believe. Becky?’
‘We have indeed,’ Simon replied, sitting down next to her while watching Lucy talking to Michael. ‘She lives in New York these days.’
‘And how often do you see her?’
‘Not often enough, I’m sorry to say.’
‘Does she ever come here?’
‘She hasn’t been for ages,’ Sarah answered, coming out of the house. ‘She’s always crazy busy, and even when she is here she’s forever on the phone bossing someone around on the other side of the pond.’
Philippa chuckled. ‘She sounds quite a character.’
‘Oh, she’s that all right, but we love her to bits, don’t we, Si?’
‘Indeed we do. We’ve always been a close family. Dad made sure of it, and I don’t see it ever changing.’
Since his comment was so clearly directed at John, Sarah felt herself colouring as she said, ‘Simon, why don’t you take Lucy for a stroll down to the stream?’
Overhearing, Lucy turned around, and reading Sarah’s expression perfectly, she said to Simon, ‘I’d love it if you would, because actually there’s something I’d like to ask you.’
Getting to his feet, Simon clapped Michael on the back as he passed, and falling in beside Lucy as she started down the steps, he said, ‘I suppose I’ve just been banished while I learn some manners.’
‘I think that’s a fairly safe assumption,’ Lucy replied.
Laughing, he said, ‘I know Sarah’s told you about Mckenzie’s past with my mother …’
‘Actually, I was there when Philippa told her that they were old friends, and as far as I’m aware that’s all Sarah knows too. At least for certain.’
Sighing, he said, ‘All right, point taken. I promise to try harder when we return.’
Casting him a mischievous smile, she took a sip of her drink and allowed him to go first along a pathway hidden by overgrown shrubs.
‘This place really needs some work,’ he commented. ‘It’s even worse than I realised.’
‘But it has a kind of charm like this,’ she decided. ‘It’s as though it’s protecting its own ghosts and memories.’
In a tone that surprised her, he said, ‘I can assure you that it is, and not all of them need digging up.’
Placing a foot carefully on to the stone he turned to indicate, she said, ‘I’ve always got the impression from Sarah that you had happy childhoods.’
‘We did,’ he answered, stopping to hold back a bramble, ‘but believe me, this wasn’t always an easy family to be in. Everyone used to think we were blessed, we seemed to have so much, and we were, but something awful lies at the heart of us, something none of us can put into words because our parents would never tell us.’
Thrown by a resentment she’d never detected in Sarah, Lucy stepped into a clearing to join him, and said, ‘I’m sure they had their reasons. I mean, I can’t imagine they ever meant to hurt you, not from everything Sarah’s told me about them.’
‘I’m sure they didn’t, but one way or another their reticence, or secrecy or whatever you want to call it, has taken its toll on us all. Sarah’s a perfect example, the way she buried herself away down here after Kelvin left her. Would she have done that if our mother hadn’t set the example by shutting herself away for days, sometimes weeks on end? And Becky. She never stands still long enough to think about what the issues might be, possibly because she doesn’t want to face them, or more likely because she knows no one will ever tell her.’
As they reached the edge of the stream Lucy stole a quick look up at him. ‘And you?’ she said softly.
Sighing deeply, he stuffed a hand in his pocket as he gazed out towards the horizon. ‘I guess it’s given me a sense of loneliness that I can never quite shake off,’ he admitted, almost angrily. ‘It’s as though something’s missing all the time, and the something, obviously, is the truth.’
Lucy looked down at the meagre trickle of water finding its way round the stones and thought of the children who’d lived here, trying to cover and smother their parents with love. She got the sense that their father had rejoiced in them, loving them as completely and unconditionally as any parent would. She thought the same about Rose, but like this stream, maybe there were times when the ability to give of herself had started to run dry.
Hearing a whoop of laughter from the terrace, they turned around and Lucy saw, with a guilty tinge of regret, that Joe had arrived. ‘Seems my husband’s keeping everyone entertained,’ she commented wryly.
Simon looked at her and waited for her eyes to come to his.
As she looked back Lucy felt a kind of connection stirring between them, in much the same way as she had when she’d first got to know Sarah. It was wonderful and yet strange to feel so at ease with people she hardly knew; they might always have been a part of one another’s lives, even though they clearly hadn’t.
‘Thanks for what you’ve done for Sarah,’ he said, holding her gaze.
She smiled. ‘I feel she’s done a lot more for me, but I’m happy to know that our new partnership is working well for her too.’ Then, remembering what they were facing, she said, ‘It’s awful to think it might be about to fall apart.’
‘Michael will make sure that doesn’t happen,’ he assured her. ‘That’s provided, of course, your parents really weren’t involved.’
She shook her head as she looked away.
‘I know it’s hard to think the worst of them,’ he said gently, ‘but isn’t it true to say that no matter how well you think you know someone, they can always do something to make you wonder if you ever really knew them at all?’
She almost wanted to laugh at the way he’d taken the words out of her mouth. ‘Yes, it certainly is,’ she agreed, ‘but maybe that’s why I’m having such a hard time with it, because I still can’t make myself believe that they were involved. What I feel much more certain of is that Maureen and Godfrey were ruling them in a despicable way.’
‘I won’t argue with that,’ he said, gesturing for her to go on ahead. They started back up through the garden. ‘From everything I hear it’s the more likely scenario,’ he continued, when they were free of the tangle of old bushes and brambles. Then, with a sardonic smile, ‘Parents! Who’d have ’em?’
Clearly experiencing the same surge of warm feeling as she was, he took hold of her arm and tucked it through his. ‘I think I like you, Lucy,’ he declared as they strode up over the lawn.
‘You only think,’ she teased. ‘I felt sure you’d be completely mad about me by now.’
Laughing delightedly, he made a gallant bow as he let her pass to mount the steps first, and was about to ask for an introduction to Joe when he heard John Mckenzie saying to Sarah, ‘Actually I’d known your father for several years before I met your mother,’ and before he even knew what his words were going to be he was saying, ‘I’m not sure that’s something to feel proud of, are you, John?’
As an awful silence fell Lucy turned to look at Simon, but before she could think what to say Sarah was on her feet, red with embarrassment and rage. ‘Please accept my apologies for my brother’s rudeness, John,’ she said, glaring at Simon. ‘Simon, if I could speak to you, inside.’
‘Actually, we should probably be going,’ John said to Philippa in a way that invited no discussion.
As they stood up Lucy noticed that Joe was staring furiously at Simon. Then, catching Michael’s eye, she moved towards him as the Mckenzies started to leave. ‘How do we rescue this?’ she murmured.
‘I’m not sure we can,’ he replied.
Looking regretfully at John as he came to embrace her, she said, ‘Will we see you tomorrow?’
‘Of course.’ Though he smiled, the sadness in his eyes betrayed how shaken he was.
‘I’m sorry,’ Joe suddenly shouted, ‘we haven’t met, Simon, but frankly I think an apology’s in order before these people leave.’
‘Joe, it’s all right,’ John told him.
‘No it’s not,’ Joe argued. ‘All you said …’
‘Joe, this has nothing to do with you,’ Lucy hissed.
‘I’m afraid it has everything to do with me when a man flirts with my wife in front of my face, and then insults someone who’s merely making polite conversation.’
‘Joe, I appreciate what you’re trying to do,’ John murmured, ‘but let it drop now, son. Come on, Pippa, time to get you home.’
Putting down his drink, Joe said, ‘I’m leaving too,’ and before Lucy could stop him he was following the Mckenzies back through the house to exit by the front door.
The others remained on the terrace. Sarah looked at Lucy, who in turn looked at Michael. Simon’s back was turned as he stared silently into the twilight.
‘Well, thank you for that, Simon,’ Sarah said bitterly. ‘Is there anyone else you’d like to offend while you’re at it?’
Turning around, he said, ‘I’m sorry if I upset your husband, Lucy. It wasn’t my intention.’
Lucy shook her head sadly. ‘I’m afraid that’s not good enough, Simon,’ she told him. ‘It’s John you really upset, and there was no need for it.’
Flushing slightly, Simon raised his glass and finished the contents in one gulp.
‘If you’d allowed him to speak he might actually have told us something,’ Sarah snapped.
‘And you’d want to hear it with everyone else around?’
She threw out her hands in despair. ‘You see, there you go again jumping to conclusions. You’ve no idea what he might have said, and for God’s sake, we’re amongst friends.’
Simon’s eyes went to Michael. ‘Did you think I was flirting with Lucy?’ he asked gruffly.
‘Simon, it’s not the issue,’ Michael told him.
‘I’m just interested to know what you think. Was the accusation justified?’
Michael shrugged. ‘You seemed to be getting along well.’
‘We weren’t flirting,’ Lucy told them, ‘and I should apologise for Joe before I leave.’
‘Oh no, don’t go,’ Sarah implored. ‘Please stay and have another drink.’
Lucy looked torn. Though she didn’t want to abandon Sarah she knew Joe would take it badly if she didn’t arrive home soon after him.
‘Will it help if I apologise to John?’ Simon offered.
Surprised, and pleased, Lucy glanced at Michael. ‘Yes,’ she said, looking at Simon, ‘it would, provided you mean it.’
‘You can do it now, tonight,’ Michael suggested. ‘I’m sure one of us has his number.’
Both Sarah and Lucy were ready to offer it.
Simon’s eyes moved from Michael to Lucy and finally to Sarah. ‘OK,’ he said, seeming to accept that he couldn’t back out. ‘Give me another drink, then I’ll get on the phone.’
John and Philippa were on their way in through the front door of the Old Lodge when the phone started to ring. Being the closest, Philippa picked it up.
‘Hello?’ she said, her heart aching with pity as she watched her brother walk into the kitchen.
A male voice came awkwardly down the line. ‘Uh, it’s Simon Bancroft here,’ he said. ‘I’m ringing to apologise. I shouldn’t have said what I did.’
Still sobered by the incident, but pleased that he’d called, Philippa said, ‘It’s John you need to speak to. If you hang on I’ll get him,’ and placing the receiver on the table she went into the kitchen.
John was standing at the window gazing absently into the garden.
‘He wants to apologise,’ Philippa said softly.
John didn’t move.
‘I think you should let him.’
Turning around he looked into her eyes, his own tormented with sadness.
She stood aside, gesturing towards the phone.
As he passed she put a hand on his arm. ‘It was never going to be easy,’ she reminded him.
Still saying nothing, John went to pick up the receiver. For one awful minute Philippa thought he was going to hang up, but then he put it to his ear and said, brusquely, ‘Simon? What can I do for you?’
‘I guess I spoke out of turn just now,’ Simon replied, sounding equally brusque, ‘and I’d like to say sorry.’
‘I see,’ John responded.
A silence followed that was hard for John to bear. ‘The important thing,’ he said, ‘is whether you’re apologising because you mean it, or because Sarah’s asked you to.’
‘Not asked, told, but you realise, I hope, that if you were to tell us who you are, how you fit into my parents’ lives, these … incidents wouldn’t occur?’
Turning away from the mirror above the phone, John put a hand to his head. He didn’t want to look at himself; the pain was hard enough without having to see it written all over his face. ‘I understand what you’re saying,’ he replied, aware of Philippa watching him, ‘but I gave my word to your mother, a long time ago, as she gave hers to me, that we would never discuss what happened, or our reasons for doing what we did.’
He could sense Simon biting down on his frustration. ‘This isn’t helping,’ Simon growled.
‘I’m sure it isn’t, but I’m afraid it’s the best I can do.’
‘Then just tell me this, was it an affair?’
John swallowed the terrible grief blocking his throat. ‘No, son,’ he said, hoarsely, ‘it wasn’t an affair.’
Simon fell silent.
‘Whatever you’re thinking now,’ John said, turning to look at Philippa, ‘please remember this, you have no reason to think ill of your mother.’
Sounding insufferably bitter, Simon said, ‘Well thank you for that.’
John’s eyes closed.
‘For Christ’s sake,’ Simon suddenly exploded. ‘What the hell can be so awful that you can’t tell us what it is?’
Knowing how impossible it would be for him to summon the words, even if he had Rose’s permission, John said nothing.
In the end Simon said, ‘Am I able to tell Sarah you’ve forgiven me?’ His tone made it clear that he couldn’t care less for himself.
‘Yes, of course,’ John replied.
‘Thank you. Goodnight,’ and the sound of the line going dead buried it
self deep into John’s heart.
‘Thank you for ringing,’ he said, and putting the phone down he stood looking at his sister, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. ‘He’s a man a father can feel proud of,’ he said shakily.
Chapter Sixteen
‘OH, SO YOU decided to come home.’
Immediately irritated by Joe’s antagonism, Lucy bit back a sharp retort, and put her bag on the table. ‘Is there any more where that came from?’ she asked, indicating his empty glass.
‘It was Scotch. Not usually your drink of choice.’
Going to the fridge she took out a bottle of wine, and was about to hand it to him to open when she decided to break the habit and do it herself. ‘It wasn’t your place to make a stand like that,’ she told him, taking a glass from an overhead cupboard.
‘The man was totally out of order …’
‘There are issues that you know nothing about.’
Sarcasm dripped from his tone as he said, ‘Well, of course, you would defend him, wouldn’t you?’
Lucy’s eyes flashed. ‘I know what you’re insinuating,’ she snapped, ‘but you’re wrong and …’
‘I know what I saw.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’
‘Tell me you weren’t attracted to him.’
Still struggling to hang on to her temper, she said, ‘I’m not going to tell you anything of the sort, because I don’t have to defend myself to you, or to anyone else.’
‘We’re still married,’ he shot back angrily. ‘I get that you wish we weren’t, but we are, and as long as you’re my wife arrogant bastards like that can keep their ruddy hands off you.’
‘This isn’t a soap opera.’
His colour deepened. ‘That’s a cheap shot.’
Since it was, she tried to calm things down by saying, probably too pedantically, ‘Simon is Sarah’s brother and, much like when I first got to know her, I happened to strike up a rapport with him. If you choose to read more into it than that I’m afraid it’s your problem, not mine.’
He continued to stare at her, furious, but clearly not sure how to play this.
‘Are there any messages?’ she asked, turning to the machine. ‘Did Mum call while we were out?’