by Minna Howard
‘Mmm, so nice to sit down,’ she said, closing her eyes like a contented cat. ‘I’ve been travelling most of the day. The train was hopelessly late.’
Sarah had so many things to do before she went away, and having this girl here cramped her thoughts. She said, ‘If it is not intrusive to ask, where is your mother?’
‘Oh, she’s in LA. Been living there for ever with her new man. It’s too late in the pregnancy to fly that far. Anyway, it’s not Mummy’s scene to be a granny.’ She laughed, but Sarah detected a stab of pain behind it.
‘Will it be your father’s scene?’ Somehow she couldn’t see Robert coping with disturbed nights and nappies.
‘He won’t mind. I’ll be gone soon anyway. When it’s born, I’ll be off again. I just thought I’d rather have it in this country!’
Sarah wondered if she could enquire who the father was and what had happened to him. Had Freya been deserted, left alone to bring up this child? Instead of prying further, she offered tea or coffee and said she had to pack as she was going away for Christmas the following day. The flight for Scotland left tomorrow afternoon, and there was no way that she would miss it.
‘Fine, go ahead, don’t mind me,’ Freya said, her eyes still closed.
Sarah made her some tea before going upstairs to pack. She found that Polly had snitched her new fleece which added to her feeling of being put upon. She did not want to be nice to this girl, but she had not the heart to tell her to go.
She wandered aimlessly round her bedroom, collecting things up and then discarding them and really getting nowhere. Every so often she peered out of the window into the street to see if Diana’s lights had gone on and she was back, but her house stayed in darkness.
As the time went by, her agitation grew. What would happen if Diana did not get back before she left? Would she have to let Freya stay here? The enemy in the camp. If Robert came back before she did, then he would have instant access to her house.
Agitated at this worrying thought she went downstairs again. Freya was reading the newspaper. She looked up and smiled at her – Robert’s smile, which was so disconcerting. Sarah said, ‘As I told you, I’m going away tomorrow until after the New Year. What will you do if Diana does not come back?’
Freya thought for a moment then said, ‘We’ll have to break in over the garden wall. I’m afraid you’ll have to climb over it as I can’t in this condition – and then let me in by the front door.’
‘Have you absolutely nowhere else to go?’ Sarah sat down opposite her.
‘No, I haven’t. The few friends I’ve kept up with have gone away. I really thought Daddy would be here, or anyway Diana with the key. What about his cleaner? She must have a key.’
‘I don’t know where she lives.’
Freya regarded her, a frown creasing her brow. She said imperiously, ‘It’s odd that you don’t have a key. The people who lived here before always did. They were constantly in and out of each other’s houses.’
Sarah said sharply, ‘Your father and I don’t get on.’
‘Oh? Why’s that?’
‘He seems to think he should have this house. Apparently the Blakes promised it to him, but in the event they sold it to me.’
‘Did you gazump him?’ Freya demanded.
‘No. He was away and they needed to sell it quickly to buy something else. I happened to be here and bought it. I didn’t know about him wanting it until he came back.’
‘I see. Funny they didn’t know his mobile number or send him a text. He was probably in Scotland, where he has recently inherited a glassworks. He spends quite a bit of his time there. I think he’s got a girlfriend up there, too.’ She smiled. ‘He usually has one somewhere.’
‘Don’t you have his number there?’ Sarah’s voice was sharp. ‘Or his mobile?’
‘I’ve left all his numbers behind in Paris. I’ve gone quite scatty since being pregnant, a friend came early to take me to the station and I forget them.’ She sighed, ‘ silly I know but I just assumed he’d be here.’ Her eyes glazed with tears making Sarah feel sorry for her. Whatever she thought of Robert it was unkind to take it out on his daughter. ‘I can’t even remember the name of the business he has in Scotland, anyway it’s probably closed now for Christmas. And he must have changed his mobile number as it doesn’t seem to work, though I can’t blame him for that as I haven’t contacted him for ages.’
‘Why doesn’t he live in Scotland with this new business permanently?’ Sarah said, that would solve everything if he did.
‘Maybe he will. But he’s got his job here,’ Freya said.
‘And what’s that?’
‘He consults for various firms now. It gives him a bit more time to do what he wants to do.’
‘Orchids?’ Sarah guessed. ‘But who looks after them when he’s away?’
‘Perhaps his cleaner does, or maybe he farms them out.’ Freya glanced at the white one Robert had given Sarah. It sat on the table by the window, its pristine beauty dominating the room. ‘Did he give you that?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then he must like you. He only gives them to people he thinks will care for them.’ Freya regarded her with renewed interest.
Sarah ignored the ridiculous bubble of euphoria that rose in her. She said sharply, ‘Or to bribe them.’
‘Bribe? Why should he want to do that?’
‘He wants this house so badly I think he might do anything.’
‘He usually gets what he wants,’ Freya said. ‘That’s something I’ve inherited from him.’ She moved to get up, her hand on her back as she attempted to stand. ‘Do you have Diana’s phone number? I’ll ring and see if she has come back.’
‘I haven’t got it. I don’t even know her, but I’ll go outside and check if she’s back.’ Sarah left the room, wanting suddenly to be outside, away from Freya’s demanding presence.
She went up to No. 9, but it was still in darkness. Just as she turned away, a young couple came out of the house next door. Sarah asked them if they knew where Diana was.
‘She’s gone away, she’ll be back on Boxing Day,’ the man said cheerfully.
‘Do you have a key for her house, because I need the key for Robert’s house?’
‘I don’t. She leaves one with her sister, I think, but I don’t know her exact address. It’s somewhere in the New Kings Road.’ The couple seemed impatient to be off.
It was obvious that unless Sheila, the cleaner, turned up, there would be no way until Boxing Day that Freya could get the key from Diana. She asked the couple if they knew Sheila’s number.
‘No,’ the girl said, ‘but she came today. I saw her leave at lunchtime. She wished me a Happy Christmas, so I don’t suppose she’ll be back until after it.’
Heavy with irritation, Sarah went back and told Freya the news. She couldn’t chuck a pregnant woman out into the street, yet she certainly could not leave a stranger in her house, either. Would Freya be able to find a room in a hotel?
Freya did not look unduly worried. ‘We’ll just have to break in,’ she said. ‘We, or rather you, I’m afraid can get over the back into his garden. He’s got a rather dodgy window-catch, and if he hasn’t mended it, you can open it with a knife. Then you can open the front door for me.’
‘I can’t possibly do that. Anyway I’ll set off the alarm. We’ll call the police non-emergency number; they’ll know what to do.’ She reached for her mobile.
‘No, don’t do that.’ Freya’s face became strained. ‘Not unless we have to. Please do this for me. I’ll be eternally grateful.’
She couldn’t say she was not sure Freya was Robert’s daughter and an imposter as there was enough resemblance for her to have no doubt, but it was possible that Robert would not want her in his house. If she only wanted to contact the police as a last resort, maybe it would be wrong to let her in. Yet Freya was hugely pregnant, and the other alternative was to let her stay here until Diana returned, or Sheila, or until whoever looked after the orchids w
ent in. Sarah did not want that.
‘I don’t want to do it,’ she said. ‘Anyway, we can’t do it now in the dark.’
‘You must. Please, Sarah, I’ve nowhere else to go. I know it is my fault I didn’t call Daddy before, but I decided a few days ago that my relationship was not working, would never work, so I thought it better to leave him and come here and have the child.’
‘Couldn’t you have waited until you had contacted your father?’
‘No. I had to get here before it was born in France, and the trains are hopeless between Christmas and New Year.’
Sarah’s agitation increased. Was that going to be the next thing? Freya going into labour at any moment?
‘When is it due?’
‘In a couple of weeks. I’m really sorry to have put you to so much trouble, but I’ve no one else who can help me. I’ll square it up with Daddy if that’s what you’re worried about. Any damage you do I’ll get mended. He’ll understand.’
‘I’m sure he won’t. Anyway, I can’t do anything tonight,’ Sarah said again, lamely. ‘We’ll have to see in the morning.’
‘Thank you so much, you’ve saved my life,’ Freya said triumphantly, proving that – like her father – she usually got what she wanted. ‘Would you mind if I slept here? I’m too tired to go and find a hotel.’
Of course she had to agree. Sarah put her in Polly’s room, and Freya went straight to bed, saying she wanted no more than a banana to eat.
Sarah spent a miserable evening and night wondering how she could get rid of her. She did not have Robert’s number and she couldn’t possibly break in to his house. He would surely use it against her if she did.
The next morning was bright and sunny. Freya was downstairs early. She said, ‘Let’s do it now. Then I can get out of your way.’
‘I think we ought to find a locksmith,’ Sarah decided, reluctant to break in to Robert’s house, but also afraid she would miss her plane if this took too long.
Freya guessed at her anxiety. She pointed out, ‘That will take ages. They are bound to have to ask the police or whatever. Look, please Sarah, it won’t be difficult.’ She went to the French windows that led to the garden, and asked Sarah to unlock them.
Sarah could imagine Robert’s anger, and the endless nasty letters coming from his solicitor, accusing her of all sorts of horrors. What if Freya, who obviously made decisions on a whim, decided to go back to France and the father of this child, and left her to face his anger alone? But she unlocked the French windows, and Freya went out into the garden and stood by the trellis-covered wall that separated the two gardens.
She studied it carefully, then she said, ‘It’s quite high, isn’t it? But look, you could saw through it just there, where the creeper is not very thick. Then, by standing on something, you can just pop over into his garden. That window by the door can easily be opened with a knife. I showed him once how dangerous it was to leave it like that, and he probably hasn’t done anything about it. You open that and then you are in. Easy!’ she smiled at Sarah encouragingly.
‘How do you know he hasn’t mended it? And how do you know how to open it in the first place?’ Sarah asked bossily.
Freya blushed, looked awkward. ‘Well, if you must know someone showed me. Oh, a long time ago. I don’t do it anymore.’
‘Do what?’ Sarah felt anxious again. Was this girl a thief and that was why Robert hadn’t kept in touch with her?
Freya said with defiance, ‘When I was sixteen, I was rather wild. I was at a boarding-school; it was so boring. I met up with a man who was into breaking and entering.’ She smiled dreamily. ‘He was so good-looking, and so exciting compared to the drippy boys I met through the girls at school. I joined him a couple of times. But I was caught.’
‘So you mean you were a thief?’
‘No, I just went with him. I didn’t do anything. I waited outside. Anyway, I got into terrible trouble about it; I was expelled and Daddy sent me abroad. I’d never take anything that wasn’t mine or smash up people’s property, but this man did show me how to break in.’
‘I don’t like it,’ Sarah said. ‘I’m sorry, but there must be something else we can do. You could go to a hotel for instance. I’ll lend you money if you haven’t any.’
‘No, thank you,’ Freya said firmly. ‘Look, Sarah, you get me in and then I’ll deal with Daddy. I promise you he’ll be fine about it.’ She looked at her watch. ‘You said your flight is at three, you’d better get on with it.’
Despite her misgivings, Sarah fetched her light aluminium step-ladder and sawed through the trellis. It was old and damp, and split instead of cutting cleanly. She had to hack away much of the creeper, making a terrible mess of it. Then, with Freya holding on to the ladder, she climbed up and over into Robert’s garden. She stood a moment and looked round it. It was full of all kinds of plants she had never seen before. Some were covered with straw to protect them from the frost. There were beautiful green glazed pots some holding deep red cyclamen. Before she could take in more of the garden Freya came up a few steps of the ladder and looked over the wall.
‘Now for that window on the side. Take the knife and slip it under the frame; jerk it up and the catch will open. It’s quite a knack, so take your time.’
The whole of Sarah’s being protested against this act, but time was marching on and if she missed this flight she would not get on to another one this side of Christmas. Following Freya’s instructions, she did what she said. It didn’t work. She tried again, and the knife slipped and cut her hand. The scarlet blood sprayed out, splashing over the white-painted windowsill.
‘Damn,’ she swore, dropping the knife and sucking her hand.
‘Wait, I’ll get you a handkerchief.’ Freya disappeared and returned a moment later with a drying-up cloth. ‘Wrap it up and have another go,’ she said, looking at the wound. ‘The cut doesn’t look too bad; you’ve just bled rather a lot. You’ve got to open the window to get through the house, or you’ll have to spend Christmas in the garden.’
‘I won’t, you can lift over the ladder and I can get out again,’ she said angrily, inspecting her hand. The cut hurt and was still bleeding, dripping on to the stones by her feet.
‘I’m so sorry, but please, Sarah, try one more time,’ Freya begged.
With her hand wrapped in the towel, Sarah tried again in desperation. However had she got involved in this? She would not bear it if she missed her flight and had to spend Christmas here. Not that she would; she’d drive all the way up, if need be, though it would be hell to do on her own.
She tried again and again, and suddenly the catch flicked up and she pushed the window open.
‘How am I meant to get through that?’ she demanded, the window being a few feet off the ground.
‘I’ll push over the ladder or, better still, stand on that pot beside it,’ Freya said, rather impatiently.
A huge pot containing something shrouded in sacking stood by the window. If she put her foot on the rim of it, she could lever herself through the window. She did this, and just as she pushed off with her foot the pot cracked and a large piece of it fell and shattered on to the stone paving.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll get him another one,’ Freya said. ‘You’re there now. Remember the alarm code. I’ll come round and be outside the front door.’
At least Freya knew the alarm code. ‘It’s easy, the ages of Mummy and Daddy when they finally got divorced. Daddy uses it for everything. 3638.’
‘Don’t lock me out of my own house!’ Sarah said sharply before she heaved herself through the window and landed on the back of a chair in Robert’s living room.
She felt like a thief. She heard the low hum of the burglar alarm, so she hurried through the room, only briefly taking in the muted colours and elegant watercolours on her way to the alarm panel. This was situated in exactly the same place as hers was. ‘3638,’ she kept muttering while she keyed it in. The hum stopped.
She walked along the short passage
to the front door. She passed the open-plan kitchen and dining-room. The cupboards were painted denim blue, and the curtains were white, blue and olive, giving the room a fresh, almost Mediterranean feel. It surprised her. Somehow she’d imagined his taste would be more drab. But she had no time to look round; she opened the front door and Freya came in, dragging her bag behind her.
‘At last!’ She hugged her. ‘Thank you so much, Sarah. Now, forget about me and go and catch your plane. I’ll be fine. I’ll get the key off Diana when she gets back.’
‘But what about food?’ Sarah said, unable to stop herself fussing.
Freya opened Robert’s freezer. ‘Look, there are pheasants and smoked salmon, even bread. Daddy always lives well. I shall be fine.’
‘You better have my milk. I’ve some fruit and cheese too; they won’t last until I get back.’ Sarah suddenly felt sorry for Freya, spending Christmas here alone with her child’s birth so imminent.
As if guessing her thoughts, Freya said, ‘Thanks. I’ll get you some more when you come back. But I’ll be fine, honestly. You don’t know how happy I feel to have made this decision and to be safely here. I like my own company, and Christmas was never much of a thing for me anyway.’
There was no more time to go into it, if Sarah was to catch her plane. Feeling decidedly uneasy about it all, she put a dressing on her hand, finished her packing, locked her house up, got into the Uber she’d called and departed, hoping that all would be well.
Eighteen
As her brother drove her to his house, close to Inverness, Sarah said, ‘I can’t tell you, Edward, how relieved I am to be here.’
He laughed. ‘You sound as if you’re escaping some wild beast!’
‘Almost, but it’s not so much her as her father, my next door neighbour who feels he, or rather his orchids have a right to my house. ’ She explained about Robert and Freya.
‘What would she have done if she’d arrived today after you had left?’