Honeysuckle House

by Christina Jones

  ‘Have you seen your solicitor yet?’

  She met his eyes in a steady gaze. ‘I’ve made an appointment. Leon, I shan’t be asking for a legal separation. I shall be divorcing you.’

  ‘Oh.’ The word vibrated between them.

  ‘It should only take three months to go through, four at the most.’ She swirled the tomato juice round in her glass. ‘Four months to end nearly twenty-five years of marriage.’

  ‘As long as it isn’t any longer than four months.’ He raised his eyes. ‘You see, Felicity is expecting my baby in six months’ time.’

  ‘This makes me feel young again!’ Norma Beatty beamed across her crowded garden. It reminds me of when the children were courting and brought their friends home.’ She grinned at her husband. ‘Can you remember that far back?’

  ‘Just about. Some problem up at the house, is there? Is that why they’ve all descended on us?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Norma said. ‘Rosie’s said nothing to me.’

  Both William and Kizzy had noticed Rosie’s silence when she’d returned from Jamie’s birthday party the previous week. But, as Jamie had insisted it had been a totally epic evening, and Mum and Dad hadn’t argued, they put it down to pressure of work at the house.

  Kizzy was delighted that she and Andrew had reached a truce when they’d met that hot afternoon at Steven’s flat. Her A-levels were now just a stepping stone to her future. She was going to take up her place at the local university, provided she got her grades, and she planned to divide her time at weekends between helping Andrew in the garden centre and waitressing at the B and B.

  They’d get married once she’d got her degree, and in the meantime, Andrew and his father would work together and Andrew would live in the chalet. They had beamed delightedly at each other when these decisions had been made, and wondered why on earth they had ever argued.

  Life was so good, Kizzy thought happily, as she flopped down under the apple tree beside the dog and watched William showing Lewis the butterflies on the buddleia. She and Andrew would never, ever make the mistakes her parents had. They would face problems as they arose and tackle them. She couldn’t understand why other people found relationships so hard …

  ‘I do know Rosie’s seen her solicitor,’ Norma muttered to her husband. ‘I wonder if that’s what’s bothering her. The finality of it.’

  ‘Could be.’ Paul Beatty thanked his lucky stars that his own marriage – and those of his children – had weathered the storms and remained strong.

  William dropped down beside Norma. ‘It’s very kind of you to let us all descend on you like this.’

  ‘Nonsense.’ Norma patted his hand. ‘Hasn’t this been your second home since you were children? Paul and I love having you here. And to see you all so happy! Kizzy and Andrew look like they haven’t a care in the world – and your Lisa … well, her smile rivals the sunshine.’

  ‘I know. We’re lucky. We really want Mum and Dad to come through this OK, so our problems have had to take a bit of a back seat. Still, Kizzy and Andrew have sorted things out now and come to the decision Mum and Dad wanted them to make right at the beginning.’

  ‘Funny how often that happens if people are left to their own devices,’ Norma said sagely. ‘And they won’t regret it, I’m sure. Three years isn’t long to wait.’

  Three years. William lay back and looked up at the sky. In three years’ time, he wasn’t sure that he wanted still to be at the Nook, but he would still be cooking. Maybe a restaurant in Cornwall – a fishing village, where they could specialise in seafood dishes. But wherever he was, and whatever he was doing, he knew he would be with Lisa.

  ‘Did Mum tell you Lisa took me to meet her parents?’

  ‘She mentioned it, but I haven’t spoken to her since. Was it successful?’

  William laughed. ‘You won’t believe who they are! Donald and Marion Ross, the TV chefs …’

  William told Norma and Paul the whole story, pausing only for Norma’s little bursts of ‘No! Really?’ and ‘What does she look like in the flesh?’

  ‘So, in the end,’ he concluded, ‘we parted friends. Lisa’s made it clear that we’ll be making our own way in life. If they want to see Lewis – whom they cooed over non-stop – she said they’re more than welcome, but they can come to us next time. I was so proud of her.’

  Norma looked at the pretty, dark-haired girl playing with her baby.

  ‘I’m sure it’ll be all right. Imagine, William – you could have extremely famous in-laws!’

  ‘I’ve thought of that.’ He grinned. ‘Actually, they were interested in the Nook – and in some of my recipes. They were quite down to earth, really. I liked them in the end.’

  ‘Things seem to be on the up for the Brodie family at the moment. You youngsters seem to have got your futures mapped out. Jamie’s settled again – well, as settled as you can be at his age! And your parents …’

  ‘Are going their separate ways – which a year ago none of us would have dreamed of. But on the whole … yes, I think the worst’s behind us.’

  ‘Jamie met Dad’s girlfriend last week.’ Kizzy joined them.

  ‘And what did he think?’

  ‘Well, he said she’s very pretty, and that her flat’s like something on the telly! She bought him the perfect birthday present, and it was Dad’s idea that he should thank her personally. Mum didn’t say much about it – but if she’s to be a permanent fixture in Dad’s life I suppose we’ll have to try to accept her, won’t we?’

  ‘Yes, my dear.’ Norma stroked her hair. ‘And how do you feel about it?’

  ‘Still strange.’ Kizzy gave a little laugh. ‘Sometimes I think it would help if I did meet her, because then I might believe it was all real.’

  That was probably Rosie’s problem, too, Norma thought. Not just the fact that the divorce was gathering momentum, but that the children were beginning to accept Felicity Phelps as a real presence in their father’s life.

  Poor Rosie. She must give her a ring.

  ‘Is this one more for the party?’ Paul looked up, shielding his eyes from the sun, as Otis threw himself into a frenzy of barking and tail-wagging.

  ‘It’s Steven!’ Norma struggled to her feet. ‘Come and make yourself comfortable. I’ll fetch another glass.’

  ‘Thanks, Norma. It’s kind of you, but I can’t stop.’

  Otis, annoyed at being ignored, was hurling himself at Steven.

  ‘OK!’ He laughed. ‘I get the message. You’re a beautiful dog! William, have you no control over this animal?’

  ‘None at all!’ Lisa pulled Otis away. ‘Who’s minding your shop?’

  ‘Jamie, and two of his less disreputable friends.’ Steven grinned. ‘I’m on my way to Honeysuckle House. Rosie told me you were all here, so I wondered if anyone wanted a lift?’

  ‘No, thanks.’ Andrew sat beside Kizzy, encircling her with his arms. ‘We’re going to inflict ourselves on Mr and Mrs Beatty for as long as possible in the hope that they’ll ask us to stay for supper.’

  ‘In that case I’ll come back and join you. Norma’s suppers surpass even the menu at the Nook! See you all soon.’

  ‘I’ll walk to the gate with you.’ Norma took his arm and, once they were out of earshot, asked, ‘What’s wrong with Rosie, Steven? She’s been so withdrawn. I don’t want to interfere, but …’

  ‘I know.’ He frowned. ‘That’s why I’m on my way to see her. She phoned me – sounding very odd – and asked if I’d take her into Dawley.’

  ‘Are you sure about this?’ Steven had parked the car at the marina. ‘Rosie, won’t you tell me what’s going on?’

  ‘I can’t.’ She looked into his eyes for the first time since he had picked her up. ‘Until I’ve done this, I can’t tell anyone. Bless you for bringing me here and not bombarding me with questions.’

  ‘Leon isn’t here,’ Steven pointed out. ‘His car isn’t here.’

  ‘No. That’s why I came this afternoon. I want to see Felicit
y alone.’

  ‘What good will that do?’

  ‘I promise I’ll explain it to you later. Just wait for me. I won’t be long.’ And kissing his cheek, she slipped from the car.

  Steven watched as she walked towards the block of luxury apartments, a small, trim figure in her floating cotton dress, her hair swinging silkily about her shoulders, her head tilted proudly. He loved her with all his heart.

  The lift was silent and elegant. Rosie knew Felicity would be at home. She’d phoned Brennan and Foulkes, and that nice little girl on Reception had been so helpful. Miss Phelps was just a bit under the weather and would be working from home for a couple of days …

  She wiped damp palms on her skirt and pressed the doorbell.

  Felicity opened the door, and the smile of welcome froze on her lips.

  ‘I need to talk to you.’ Rosie’s voice was cold and tight. ‘Is it convenient?’

  ‘Well, not really – I mean …’ Her green eyes were worried. ‘You’d better come in …’

  Rosie followed her into the fiat. It was, as Jamie had said, almost like a stage-set in its pale elegance. For a fleeting moment she simply couldn’t visualise Leon living here; Leon, who had a gift for creating muddle wherever he went. How on earth could be live in these opulent, clutterless surroundings? Was this what he wanted? Calm? Peace? A place for everything? And this pale, beautiful woman who seemed to have been crafted to fit exactly with the decor?

  With a pang, Rosie noticed his jacket across the back of one of the curved leather chairs. It jarred, somehow. Even Felicity’s files and papers, strewn across the table, looked ordered. Leon’s jacket was a reality. A sign that people lived here. Lived and laughed – and loved.

  ‘Please sit down.’ Felicity indicated the chair with the jacket, but Rosie perched on the sofa. ‘I don’t know what to say …’

  ‘Neither do I. Look, Leon told me …’

  ‘I know.’ Felicity sighed. ‘And I know how you must feel.’

  ‘No, you don’t. You haven’t got a clue how I feel. How could you?’ Rosie found herself reliving that awful moment in the Cat and Fiddle.

  She had stared at Leon, then, saying nothing, had pushed her glass away and walked out. Leon had done all the talking after that, but Rosie hadn’t heard him. They had walked to the fairground, collected Jamie and his friends, and she still hadn’t said anything. There had been nothing to say.

  Until now.

  ‘I’m divorcing Leon because he wants me to. So don’t be concerned. He’ll be free to marry you before the baby is born. I just hope you know what you’re doing. You’ll have two children to look after, you know. Oh, I’m sure you’re going to be a very organised mother, but please don’t count on Leon. He’ll be around for playtimes and bathtimes, maybe occasionally a bedtime story – but the rest of the time you and the baby will be on your own, while he’s out chasing dreams …’

  She swallowed, determined that the tears shouldn’t fall in front of this lovely, composed woman who was staring at her with such sympathy.

  ‘There’s nothing I can say.’ Felicity spoke calmly. ‘When we met, you behaved with dignity and I hated myself for loving Leon. Now, I love him even more. I won’t pretend that I don’t want this baby, because I do. Desperately. I was so jealous of you, because of the children. To the whole world I was cool, calm, competent – everyone thought I had achieved all my goals – but inside, I was shrivelling. I wanted – I wanted to be a mother. A wife and mother.’

  ‘And you will be. You’ll probably be perfect – but he won’t be the perfect husband and father. Oh!’ Rosie stopped, irritated. ‘I sound jealous and I’m not! Really I’m not. It’s just that I’ve been through it, Miss Phelps, and I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes now.’

  ‘Can’t you call me Felicity?’

  ‘No! I’m sorry. It sounds too friendly, being on first-name terms.’

  ‘And we couldn’t be friends?’

  ‘Of course not! This is Highcliffe, not Hollywood! I’ll never reach the stage of everyone being bosom chums with everyone’s past partners.’

  To her surprise, Felicity laughed. ‘Neither will I. That sounds awful! And for what it’s worth, my parents are absolutely horrified. When I told them, they were very angry. It wasn’t what they expected.’

  ‘Life isn’t what anyone expects, though, is it? And children never conform to their parents’ expectations – as you’ll find out. The best you can hope for is that they’re happy and healthy – and you’ll love them, whatever horrors they throw at you.’

  Rosie dropped her gaze to the carpet. She didn’t want to like Felicity Phelps.

  She rose to her feet. ‘Thank you for seeing me. When Leon told me, I was stunned, and if I’d said anything at all to him it would have been the wrong thing. I know he loves you, and you obviously love him. I hope that love will mean your baby will grow up secure and happy.’ She walked towards the door, and paused. ‘I wish your child what I would wish for my own – health and happiness. Goodbye, Miss Phelps.’

  The cool aloofness remained all the way down in the lift. The only sound was the drumming in her ears.

  Outside, she was almost blinded by the sunlight after the cool shade of the apartment. She could see Steven’s car, windows down, music playing, waiting for her. She wanted to run towards it, but Felicity Phelps might be watching. She would retain her dignity.

  ‘OK?’ Steven opened the door for her, and she bundled herself into the passenger seat. ‘Rosie?’

  ‘Take me home.’ She gazed at him as huge, hot tears started to slide down her cheeks. ‘Please, just take me home!’

  Facing the Family

  Rosie sat in the garden nursing a second cup of tea. Honeysuckle House still slept; the builders hadn’t yet arrived. She was alone with the freshness of the hour, sun-warmed grass, and the salt-tanged breeze. At last she was at peace.

  She had cried yesterday all the way back from Dawley, and fitfully through the evening, while Steven kept her company, talking when she wanted to, listening the rest of the time.

  He understood her so well. He didn’t ask questions, just watched her with those gentle blue eyes, making her calm, giving her confidence.

  ‘You and Felicity have swapped roles,’ he’d said, holding her hand as the purple shadows swamped the garden. ‘She’s giving up her business-woman status to bring up a family. You’ve raised yours, and are just setting out on this new venture. It’s like a seesaw with Leon as the pivot. You’ve had your share of the downs, Rosie it’s going to be all ups from now on.’

  ‘I think there will probably still be the odd down, too. But I’m not afraid of them now.’ She’d gone into his arms, resting her head against him.

  He was a comfortable person, Steven. Unconventional, patient, gentle … Rosie lifted her face to the early sun. The sort of man she could love without fear, without pretence.

  The phone woke her from her daydreams. The sun was hovering above the top of the house. Lewis’s wails and the arrival of the builders’ lorries added to the noise.

  She ran into the sitting room and picked up the receiver.

  ‘I hope I didn’t wake you.’

  ‘Steven! ‘How are you this morning?’

  She smiled into the phone. ‘Happy, if that’s not too risky. At peace with myself and the world. And you?’

  ‘Delighted, now I’ve spoken to you. I thought last night’s determination might have melted away.’ His voice was teasing.

  ‘No. I feel as though I’ve been ill for a very long time, as if everything was muddled and confused. But now I feel better.’

  ‘Can Honeysuckle House spare you for an hour to have lunch with me?’

  ‘I think the foreman was Attila the Hun in a previous existence! I just get in his way! Can the shop spare you?’

  ‘Definitely. I’ve got a band of willing helpers now it’s the school holidays.’ Steven chuckled. ‘Jamie and his friends are using me as a sort of commercial training ground before Leon o
pens the Four Seasons and offers them proper employment.

  ‘I’ll pick you up at twelve, shall I? We could drive out to the Globe.’

  ‘Lovely. Steven, thank you – for everything.’

  His voice was so tender. ‘It’s been a pleasure and a privilege.’

  Smiling, Rosie replaced the receiver.

  Was the old saying ‘When one door closes another opens’ really true? She had meant what she’d said to Felicity Phelps; she definitely didn’t want to be in her shoes. Rosie shook her head. Her life had become so different, so quickly – and yet, she felt she had gained something out of it all.

  The builders were crashing about, whistling to their radio. Upstairs, Lisa was bathing Lewis and Otis was barking; she could hear Kizzy and Jamie arguing over the ownership of a T-shirt. Honeysuckle House was pulsing with life – and so was she.

  The phone rang again.

  ‘Rosie?’ Leon’s voice was hesitant. ‘Are the children there?’

  ‘Very much so. Why?’

  ‘Because I want to see them – to tell them. Unless you have.’

  ‘About the baby? No, I haven’t. It would be a good idea if you did.’

  ‘Felicity told me what you said. She admires you so much.’

  ‘I don’t want her admiration, Leon, or her friendship. I just wanted her to know I wouldn’t make things difficult for you.’

  ‘You’ve changed.’ His voice was full of surprise. ‘I thought I knew you, Rosie. I didn’t think you’d be like this.’

  ‘Like what? How else can I be? No one can undo what’s happened, and I think we owe it to ourselves to behave like adults – like friends. Don’t you? Are you coming over now? If you are, I’ll tell Kizzy and Jamie to stay put. William’s already at the Nook – it’s suppliers’ day.’

  ‘Yes, I remember. I’ll call in to the Nook first.’

  ‘I’ll have the kettle on – you’ll probably need tea and sympathy.’

  ‘He’s going to marry her, isn’t he?’ Kizzy said, eyes blazing. ‘Well, I’m not going to be a bridesmaid!’