by Lulu Taylor
Julia took another drag on her cigarette and saw that a layer of grey was forming on the underside of the puffy summer clouds. Perhaps it would rain this evening – the gardens would be pleased. It was a dry end to the month, and a good soaking would be appreciated.
She wondered how long David would be down at Sally’s house. Perhaps she was feeding him, hanging on his every word in the way she had when she’d lived here. ‘Oh David, that’s fascinating! You are clever!’ The eyelashes fluttering, the lips moist.
It seemed laughable, but it obviously worked. It was evidently enough to take David away.
That’s not fair. You know it’s not.
All right, it wasn’t fair. Julia had her own part to play in it all, she acknowledged that.
So David had left court and come back to Tawray, to settle down to life as a country gentleman. He’d taken a job heading up the estate management company that administered this estate – his royal connections made him eminently employable, it turned out – and soon several new clients had joined, lured by the sparkle of his second-hand star dust. After having chuntered along for years, it began to flourish and bring in money, and David was hailed as a canny businessman, which brought in more business. Once Mundo had started at nursery, Sally joined the company as his PA and assistant, and she was an excellent worker – assiduous and intelligent, with an eye for detail.
And I suppose we all benefitted. There was money to repair Tawray, and Julia had plans for the future that would need funds: she wanted to restore the old barn and set up a proper flower farm there – it seemed like the perfect place. The management of the flowers here at Tawray had been going so well; the flower festival held at Christmas was growing every year, and she thought it could be a viable business.
On the surface, then, life looked sweet. But nothing was what it seemed. In the heart of it was the canker of David’s infidelity.
But can I blame him?
She, after all, had taken the decision to make their marriage a celibate one. What healthy man could live with that? When she’d told him to seek solace in London, with women she didn’t know and never would, he’d wept. He told her he didn’t want that, he wanted only her. He said it had always been her, and always would be. But he didn’t know if he could spend the rest of his life loveless.
‘I love you,’ she’d said. ‘But I can’t go through it again. I cannot do it. I want to, but I can’t.’
He hadn’t understood, she could see that on his face. What was so hard? Millions of women did it every day without necessarily wanting to. What made her so special?
Julia took a long drink of her wine, and another drag of the noxious cigarette.
What makes me so special?
All her life, they had told her that she needed to think a little less of her own needs, and more of others. You are terrified of having a baby? What on earth makes you so special? Get on with it. You want a marriage of happiness and mutual support? Why on earth should you be any different from anyone else? Your husband’s work comes first, and rightly so. Control your horror of pregnancy and sleep with your husband. He’s entitled to it.
She wrote to Lala. Her sister had not been back in years. She and David had obviously fallen out badly enough not to want to see one another, and she had not come back. Julia’s world had shrunk down to Tawray and its immediate environs – there was no way she could go to France and see Lala herself, so they relied on phone calls and letters. Letters were best, somehow, and she liked to write things she found hard to say:
I think that David is sleeping with Sally, just as you said he would. I don’t know what to do. I’ve pushed him away but I never wanted him to go to her instead. I’m afraid I’ll lose him forever.
He’s never been mine. For all our marriage, I’ve had to share him. If it was just sex with Sally, that might be all right. But I’m afraid she doesn’t want to share. I’m afraid she’ll take him away, for good.
Lala wrote back:
I’m so sorry to hear this. I was afraid it might happen. I could tell you lots of things about what men are like but I hoped that David was different. He is a simple creature, as they all are. He wants to be loved. If you want to save your marriage, then I believe you must try and give him that. I think it’s the only way. I’m sorry.
Well, she had done what Lala suggested. She had tried. And what good had it done? None. She had been more certain than ever that her destruction lay that way. Perhaps, when nature had taken its course and she was no longer able to conceive, then she’d be able to feel differently. Until then it was an impossibility.
She finished the cigarette and drained the glass, then stood up slowly and went back to the kitchen for more, stumbling just a little. The wine on her empty stomach had gone quickly into her bloodstream.
In a moment, she would feed the children, put them to bed, all the while thinking of David down at Sally’s house. She knew he was there, though today he’d said he was going fishing. It was too beautiful a day not to enjoy, he’d said. Almost the end of the summer. The children back to school next week.
Julia poured out another glass of wine. Her hands were shaking.
What’s wrong with me?
She wondered why, exactly, she had been chosen for the devil to torment. While others walked happily and naturally through life, she took this burden with her: her incubus. Her filthy, horrible, personal devil sat with her day and night, whispering profane horrors into her ears. The wine sometimes blotted them out, but it could also do the reverse: amplify them to a point where she couldn’t stand the noise a moment longer.
She went to the back door. ‘Children! Your supper is ready, come in now!’
The white wine sat cold and inviting on the counter. She gazed at it and wondered, What will it do tonight? Will it blot everything out? Or will it sharpen it unbearably?
After all, her personal devil had been coming out more and more frequently, to sit across her shoulders. It liked it when David was with Sally, in particular. It told her things she didn’t want to hear. It made her remember things she didn’t want to remember. It reminded her of her secret.
My dark, dark secret.
The children came scampering in to sit down, chatting merrily. She sat down with them, and lifted the glass to her lips.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Present day
Standing at her father’s graveside, Alex couldn’t help remembering Jasper’s words about wedding anniversaries and what a terrible time of year the winter was.
Does that make it good for funerals?
It certainly ramped up the atmosphere of gloom and misery, to stand in the freezing cold by the ice-bound ground with sunset a few hours away even though it was only just noon. The service was well attended, with lots of local dignitaries, landowners, farmers, townspeople and villagers, who had all had a connection with David or with Tawray at some time. It was a sombre and traditional programme, with beautiful music that Pa would have loved. Johnnie delivered the eulogy. He spoke eloquently of David’s life and career, first in the navy and then in royal service; he talked about Julia briefly and the difficult time surrounding her death; and mentioned Sally too, paying tribute to the long and happy marriage she and Pa had shared. His voice shaking just a little at the end, he wished his father Godspeed on his journey, on behalf of his children and grandchildren – neatly avoiding having to mention Mundo’s name.
Alex glanced over at Mundo now. He was perfectly turned out as always, in a long black overcoat with an expensive cut to the shoulders, brilliantly shiny shoes and a dark navy tie worn with a white shirt. His hair was neat and his demeanour one of the successful city lawyer with complete self-confidence. He had come with Sally, who was resplendent in a black coat with a huge diamond brooch on the lapel, and a hat of soft black feathers on her hair, now coloured its usual icy blonde. The two of them stood at the graveside, tears pouring down Sally’s face, which she dabbed away with a white handkerchief. It was the first time Alex had seen either of them since the
news about Pa’s will.
She looked away. She was holding Scarlett and Jasmine’s hands as they watched, wide-eyed, the last moments of the burial service. They weren’t crying but they were quiet and solemn, and she tried to stay strong for their sakes as she watched the coffin lowered down into the earth, its brass plate inscribed with Pa’s name. That was the end now, forever.
I never got to say goodbye.
Johnnie stood across the grave from her, holding hands with Netta, his face etched with grief. They had decided not to bring the boys and Alex felt it was the right thing. She rarely saw them as united as they looked right now, Netta pressing close to him as if to give him the extra comfort of her nearness.
Alex looked over to where she could see her mother’s headstone, able to make out some of the lettering on it. Julia Pengelly. Much loved and missed wife and mother. She thought of the tiger-eyed girl in the mural and her delightful smile. When Johnnie had said he didn’t want to go up to Tawray quite yet – ‘I can’t face it, Al, I’m sorry’ – she had shown him the picture of the mural she’d taken on her phone. He’d zoomed in to look at their mother and when he’d glanced up, his eyes were bright with tears. ‘That’s amazing,’ he’d said, choked. ‘She looks so alive. Will Jasper really put it back up?’
‘If we want him to,’ Alex had said. ‘I think he means it.’
They’d put off that decision, along with so many others, until after today. Including what to do about Sally. No matter what Johnnie felt, they had to bear in mind what Pa would have wanted, and he must have assumed they would do right by Sally.
Which means, I suppose, that he never really saw how she treated us. Was that because he didn’t want to see it? Alex remembered Sally and Pa’s wedding day, when he came in to find that Sally had slapped her to the floor, having torn off her T-shirt. He never said a word about it, or rebuked Sally for that action. In fact, Sally was never brought up on anything she did. Pa never said anything.
You wanted a quiet life, didn’t you, Pa? And you didn’t want to be left alone again. You needed Sally, that much was obvious. I just wish you could have stood up to her a little bit more. I wish you could have shown us that you loved us too.
Pa’s will seemed to be that message: he had not given his possessions to Sally, he had given them to his children, as if in recompense for all the years they had been short-changed at Sally’s hands, and put second behind Mundo. In the end, David had decided that blood was thicker than water, and put Sally’s fate in their hands. It was a neat little twist.
I couldn’t possibly have foreseen that.
She looked over again at Sally and Mundo. The service had come to an end. Sally stepped forward and threw a red rose into the grave. Then she turned, and let Mundo lead her away, as she sobbed.
That’s it. It’s all over. I really don’t need to see her ever again after today. The tie between us is cut forever.
The wake was held at the village hall, and when Alex came in, Sally was there already, her eyes red and her lips shaky even while the feathers on her hat nodded jauntily as she moved her head.
‘Alex,’ Sally said in a wobbly voice when she saw her, and held out her cheek for a kiss.
Alex kissed it coolly and passed by. Thinking over the past had kindled the old anger and resentment, now inflamed by the knowledge that she would never have the chance to talk to her father again. It was hard not to blame Sally for that. Just hold on till this is over. Then you can cut her out of your life if you need to. The girls went off to look at the food on the tables at the side of the hall. Alex collected a glass of wine and went over to join Johnnie and Netta, who were in conversation with a local couple but giving off every vibe that they wanted to be left in peace. Alex managed to disentangle them, and they went out a side door to stand in the car park for some respite from the growing noise in the hall.
‘I wish I still smoked,’ Johnnie said feelingly. ‘This is just the kind of time for a fag.’
‘This is going to be the hardest bit,’ Alex said, ‘and then we can go home.’
‘This is our father’s funeral, for God’s sake,’ Johnnie said crossly. ‘Why should we have to talk to people we don’t want to see, eat horrible sandwiches and shop-bought Battenberg when we’ve just had to bury Pa?’
‘I think some people think of it as offering a bit of consolation,’ Netta said gently.
‘They don’t console me. They bloody bore me – all the talk of golf clubs and knitting groups and rambling associations.’
‘They mean well,’ Alex said. ‘They’re just people like Pa. His friends. We’ll be like that one day.’
‘I won’t,’ Johnnie said emphatically. ‘Because I’m going home to drink a bottle of whisky and smoke a cigar to make sure I never get old.’
Netta looked shocked but Alex laughed. ‘Come on, we all rail about becoming old and boring but it’s better than the alternative.’ She turned to Johnnie. ‘You are right, though, about leaving. Let’s get the girls and go back to my place. We’ll remember Pa as we wanted to.’
‘Great idea,’ Netta said. ‘I’ll drive, Johnnie. Let’s go back.’
Just then the door to the hall opened, and Mundo stepped out through it. He glanced over at them, his blue eyes flinty. ‘I wondered if I’d find you out here,’ he said. ‘Don’t you think it’s rather rude to sneak off like this? My mother has no idea where you are. She’s been asking for you, Alex.’
‘Oh dear,’ Alex said coolly. ‘I’ll make sure I say goodbye on the way out, but it won’t be because you want me to.’
He gave his little mirthless half-smile. ‘I see. The worm has turned. You’ve got what you wanted, so my mother can go hang. Nice. Very nice.’ He nodded, looking at their wine glasses. ‘I guess you’re toasting your newfound riches, are you? Pa’s not even cold in his grave.’
Alex glanced at Johnnie, whose expression was closing down into anger.
‘What did you say?’ he demanded.
Mundo gave him a cool look. ‘You heard me, Johnnie. I’m sure you’re delighted by the prospect of being able to turn a woman – who’s been nothing but good to you, by the way – out of her home. I expect you think you’ve done rather brilliantly, hiding the fact from her that her future security lay in your hands, and you’ve let her walk right into a trap. By being a brat all your life, you can now say she wasn’t the perfect replacement mother to you. Well, she did her damn best with a couple of spoiled little kids who made her life hell right from the start. It was no picnic being married to Pa and looking after him. She took all that off your plate and you never had to be bothered with it for a second. And this is the thanks she’s going to get.’
Alex heard a noise that sounded almost like a growl coming from Johnnie’s throat. Like two dogs squaring up for a scrap, the men were staring at each other menacingly, daring the other to make some kind of move and set their enmity free.
She held up a hand. ‘You know that’s not true, Mundo. None of us were perfect, but Sally could be unkind. We were kids who had lost our mother – she could have been a bit more understanding of what we were going through.’
‘She did more than a lot of people would have,’ Mundo rejoined. ‘And it was hard for her when she saw how you treated me.’
Alex’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘Er . . . how we treated you?’
‘Two against one,’ he said. He looked from one to the other slowly. ‘I was the outsider, and, boy, did you make sure I knew it. You never accepted me.’
Alex felt a cold chill of horror as his blue eyes fell on her, remembering the way he had tormented her. ‘That’s rubbish,’ she said in a tight voice.
‘No, it’s not. You both excluded me. Always trying to get me into trouble.’
‘You were the troublemaker.’ To her horror, her voice was quavering. ‘Right from the start. You were always telling lies about us. You know what happened . . . what you did.’ Now, she realised, her hands were shaking. The effect of Mundo’s cold blue stare and all it br
ought back was almost too much.
Johnnie said nothing, but one fist was clenched tight, his fingertips white around the stem of his wine glass as though he was about to snap it.
Mundo gave another of his tight half-smiles, one side of his mouth smiling while his eyebrows lifted sardonically. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Alex, but aren’t we a little old for all this? Whatever you said to the old man was certainly effective. You’ve got the estate and all the cash – I’ve got ten measly grand. And my mother is entirely dependent on your charity, in which I don’t have a great deal of faith.’ He shook his head. ‘I might have to have a drink too, to toast you. Congratulations. You did well. I didn’t see it coming. If I had – and I had that kind of mind-set – I might have been able to do something about it and look out for my mother and me. After all, I was brought up as his son. I kind of expected that he might think of me that way.’
Johnnie was keeping control with difficulty. He drained his glass and said tightly, ‘Well, I guess he didn’t. Who knows, but hey ho, those are the breaks, I guess.’
‘Calm down,’ Netta whispered, putting her hand gently on his arm.
‘Well, that’s the thing,’ Mundo said slowly. ‘Maybe those are the breaks, and maybe they aren’t.’
Alex found the sight of him disturbing, almost loathsome. His black coat and air of mourning made him ghoulish, and besides, he represented so much she never wanted to remember. Without meaning to, she shuddered.
Mundo saw it. He looked amused, as though he liked to see her revulsion. It seemed to fire him up again. ‘I don’t intend to take this lying down. I believe you put undue influence on Pa to exclude me and my mother from the will.’
‘The Tawray estate wasn’t his to give away!’ snapped Johnnie. ‘You obviously don’t know your trust law. You’d better start being nice to us, Mundo. We’ve got the power to evict your mother if we feel like it.’
‘We’ll see.’ Mundo gave them all a look of scorn. ‘You better enjoy your little celebration while you can. Just in case it doesn’t last.’