‘I do, actually! They’re pretty good guesses. But you’re wrong. I wouldn’t invite any of them.’
‘Who would you ask then?’
‘Just you.’
Serena looked at him and laughed tenderly. ‘You old softie,’ she teased, but then she became more serious. ‘You’re a keeper,’ she told him.
‘Do you mind . . . Can I ask . . . Serena, why don’t you want to get married?’
Serena sighed and nestled herself into Will’s arms. ‘It’s a long story. My first boyfriend, Freddie, promised me the world – including marriage. We didn’t get engaged but he did buy me a ring. I was wildly in love. I imagined we’d stay together, get married, have kids. Then he met Luna. She wanted him and Luna always gets what she wants. She seduced him.’
‘No way! Serena, that’s horrendous.’ Will looked appalled. ‘He must have been a complete idiot!’
‘Impulsive. Rash. That was half the trouble with Freddie.’
‘What happened then? Did they go out with each other?’
‘Oh, goodness, no! Freddie realised his mistake instantly and Luna didn’t love him. She probably didn’t even fancy him. She was just jealous and competitive and driven by some compulsion to steal him because he was mine. Anyway, that’s why I don’t want to get married. I know it’s silly – it’s not like I was jilted or anything. But I judge relationships by different standards these days. I don’t need a ring or a bit of paper to represent commitment. Either we’re committed or we’re not.’
‘Fair enough,’ Will replied. ‘And I don’t blame you for feeling that way. If you ever change your mind though, you’d better let me know.’
‘I won’t. But thank you.’ Serena kissed him and looked into his eyes. Will was a keeper alright.
He even came to stay with Serena and her family for a few days after Christmas and met Luna and the dreaded Colin. With Will there by her side, Serena found herself better able to suffer her sister and she was thrilled to see Will and her father getting on famously. They snuck off to the pub together and Will showed a genuine interest in the many books lining the shelves in Arthur’s study.
Will saw the best in everyone, even Luna, and Serena found this wonderful character trait rubbing off on her. Suddenly, life had never seemed better.
These are the good old days, she thought, imagining herself looking back on them one day. She never wanted them to end.
17.
MAY 2015
May had arrived and Serena had developed an unexpected friendship with Alice, bonded by their experience the previous month. She’d begun to realise that underneath Alice’s cool and prickly surface lay a genuinely lovely person. She was gradually becoming a true ally, or what Mrs Pipe would call a ‘bread-and-cheese friend’.
There was a series of churchly events on the calendar and Alice was helping Serena arrange them, in her element as a former events organiser. There was the summer fete due to take place in June and plans already needed to be considered for the famous Harvest Supper, which, while months away in October, was apparently the highlight of the village calendar.
‘Tell me about the Harvest Supper,’ Serena asked Alice one day as they companionably untangled bunting to be used for the fete.
‘Very smart affair, always has been,’ replied Alice, attacking a particularly stubborn knot. ‘Everyone in the village gets dolled up to the nines and the church hall is transformed. Caterers provide exquisite canapés and offer round champagne. There’s a string quartet usually, or something similar. It’s a bit of a highlight round here.’
‘It sounds expensive to put on.’
‘Oh, it’s ticketed. Quite expensive, but everyone forks out for it. Think it makes everyone feel a little bit glamorous. Your eyes are as wide as saucers. You don’t need to worry; I’ll help you. But let’s concentrate on one thing at a time. First, the fete.’
Later that day, Serena decided to call a house meeting. She wanted to try to get to the bottom of the uneasy feeling that had started to plague her since Mrs Pipe had told her about the dratted curse. On the whole, the house felt very warm and welcoming now, with the renovation almost complete. The walls were freshly painted, the master bedroom had a working fireplace and the rooms were becoming much homelier as second-hand furniture was unearthed by Serena, usually accompanied by either Ashna or Alice, at various markets and auctions in the area. Flowers, picked from the wild garden outside, were always present on various surfaces, and Serena had injected her own country cottage style throughout – ginghams, stripes and vintage floral prints.
But whenever she went into the nursery, Serena had this feeling. It was perhaps too flimsy to hold weight in convincing anyone else, but was too strong now to be ignored.
She’d tried to talk to Will about it on a couple of occasions, but the first time he’d quickly changed the topic of conversation and the second they’d been interrupted by Pete. She might have imagined it, but she thought she’d seen a look of relief on Will’s face. In the end, she’d decided that if she couldn’t get Will to discuss it on their own, she’d bring it up with everyone. They needed to chat about the upcoming fete anyway, so she would kill two birds with one stone.
‘What’s all this about then, my lovely?’ asked Will as he handed gin and tonics to Serena, Ashna and Pete – concocted to perfection with two fingers of gin to five of tonic, masses of ice and a generous slice of lime.
‘Delicious,’ said Serena, taking a large gulp. ‘Well, let’s deal with the fete first,’ she suggested. ‘And then we’ll get onto the other thing.’
‘Good plan,’ replied Will. ‘Actually, house meetings are a great idea. They appeal to me; you know what I’m like,’ he said, grinning. ‘We should have them on a regular basis. Now, let’s have a look at this list Alice has made. So we’ve booked a face-painter, a bouncy castle, nail-painting, pony rides, an acrobat – heavens, it’s not that fellow who comes to church is it? The one with the suit and tie who says he used to work in a circus, but looks like he’s never stepped foot outside an office in his life?’
‘That’s the one!’ said Serena. ‘Don’t worry, Will. Ashna and I were treated to a taster before we booked him and he’s amazing, honestly.’
‘Mmm,’ Will replied, remaining sceptical. ‘If you say so. Right, so the stalls then. We’re using the trestle tables from the hall and we’ve got a tombola, a raffle, home-knitted dolls, cakes, jewellery made by Alice (clever Alice, I didn’t know she could make jewellery) and scarves and bedspreads made by our very own, incredibly talented Ashna . . .’
Ashna blushed. ‘I hope some of the stuff sells . . . I’ve got masses of things now I’ve been working up in the attic. It’s been fantastic, especially since Mrs Pipe found me that second-hand sewing machine.’
‘She’s a help, isn’t she, in that dark and mysterious way of hers. Mrs Danvers from Rebecca, that’s who she always reminds me of. Just a hint of something sinister about her.’
‘Will, that’s so mean,’ said Serena. ‘But very, very true!’ she added, laughing nervously. ‘Actually, perhaps now is a good time to tell you about the other thing. Now, please don’t tell me I’m going mad, but I think Mrs Pipe might have been right. I think there may be a curse on the house. I get this feeling . . . It’s the nursery . . .’ she told them, tailing off as she saw their faces. Everyone looked at her, aghast. There was silence, followed by the clink of a piece of ice settling in Serena’s glass.
Will raised his eyebrows. ‘Well, somehow I wasn’t expecting that,’ he said at last. ‘What on earth gives you that idea? I thought you’d dismissed that nonsense the day Mrs Pipe mentioned it,’ he said. Although now he thought about it, he remembered how upset Serena had been and perhaps she had tried to mention it again on a couple of occasions since. Had he been burying his head in the sand about it all? He feared he probably had.
‘A curse?’ asked Pete, his dark blue eyes wide with intrigue and amusement. ‘I knew there was a catch to this place. You’ve all been pretendin�
� to be friendly folk who’ll forgive me my terrible past, but all along you were lurin’ me into your House of Horrors. You’re never gonna let me go, are you?’ he stage-whispered.
‘Sssh,’ said Ashna. ‘It’s not funny, Pete.’ Ashna could be blunt with Pete; their relationship had become cosy and comfortable. Serena still had high hopes of getting them together, but for now she leapt at Ashna’s apparent solidarity.
‘Have you felt it too?’ asked Serena, full of hope.
‘Well, no, but it’s been a busy time for you moving into a new place, a new parish, with the renovation to sort out and the village events to organise. Perhaps you’re a little stressed? Maybe that’s the trouble? I could help you. Teach you some yoga or meditation?’ she offered sweetly.
And there it was. Will was the sceptic she had known he would be. Pete thought it was highly funny. And even Ashna, sweet Ashna, thought it was all in her mind. The meeting had been a bad idea. If she was going to get to the bottom of this curse, it was clear she was going to have to do it alone.
18.
DECEMBER 2001
Having graduated in the summer, Serena and Will were living together in Will’s parish in Hither Green in South East London, where he’d started his first job as a curate (an assistant vicar) for St Swithuns. He was having to endure being treated with some disdain by the parish vicar – the Reverend Pankhurst.
Since Serena had moved in with him to the tiny terraced house that came with his post, she’d realised that living with a vicar was a job in itself. But she embraced it wholeheartedly, being as committed to life as the partner of a curate as she was to Will himself.
The couple enjoyed a straightforward relationship from the start. No games. No indecision. They loved each other. They were nice to each other. It was all very simple. There was just one blight on this perfect landscape. One bone of contention. Serena wanted a baby. And Will didn’t. Or at least, not yet.
‘Serena, you’re an enigma to me about this. All your friends are raring to start careers. We’re so young. Only twenty-one. We have no money. You don’t even want to get married. Why a baby?’
But Serena couldn’t explain it. It was an urge. An overwhelming urge. Perhaps if she’d followed her original dream to train as a midwife, she’d have been in less of a hurry, but she hadn’t, and the thought of more exams at this stage made her feel sick. She didn’t care that Will was only a curate with a wage that was laughable. She wanted a career, of course she did, after achieving a First in her languages degree. But there was plenty of time for all that. The priority for her was to have children. She adored Will and she wanted half a dozen little Wills. They would fit into their lives and follow her around like ducklings. She was a natural nurturer and had all the impatience of a twenty-something who felt as though life – real, grown-up life – should start right now.
Will was adamant, however, and she knew she’d already pushed him enough on the subject. She put her desires to one side for now and found herself a job as a translator for an international logistics company. It wasn’t her dream job (she’d far rather have been starting work as a midwife), but it would do and the salary was decent.
Christmas was upon them and they were heading to Sussex to spend a week with the Meadows family. Predictably, Colin was now history, but Luna had another new boyfriend and, while Will was excited about meeting this Sebastian, Serena was simply bracing herself.
But Christmas turned out to be magical from the moment they arrived until the time they left. Sebastian was surprisingly charming – not in a slimy way, but in an easy-going, comfortable and happy-to-join-in-with-chores kind of way. Luna was relaxed and far less moody than usual, perhaps finally in love.
On Christmas Eve, the whole family put up a huge tree in the sitting room and Serena found an old Christmas CD, so they all danced about to the usual festive favourites while they decorated the branches. They argued playfully over the winner of the best Christmas song of all time, about which they all had strong opinions (Nat King Cole’s ‘The Christmas Song’, as far as Serena was concerned).
Then, while Stephanie clattered about in the kitchen making supper, everyone else pottered across to the Rose and Crown for a few drinks and Serena and Luna found themselves bumping into old friends they hadn’t seen in years. Eventually they returned home for a delicious, warming casserole and Serena gave her mother a hug, recognising she’d gone to a lot of effort as cooking wasn’t usually her forte.
On Christmas Day, Serena, Sebastian and Arthur busied themselves making the lunch together while Will drove back to London first thing to assist the vicar with the morning’s service at his parish church (the poor fellow had only driven back and forth to London the night before to help with Midnight Mass). He made it back just as lunch was served and everyone was merrily pulling crackers and exclaiming over the tacky gifts within. Stephanie and Luna had spent the morning glamming themselves up and both looked stunning, while Serena still had her apron on and her make-up-free face was, she was sure, unbecomingly shiny. But she didn’t care. They were all together and everyone was in high spirits.
On Christmas night, after a raucous game of charades, Arthur announced himself in need of some peace and quiet and sloped off to his study while everyone else flicked through the channels deciding which festive special to enjoy. The chosen programme didn’t appeal to Serena so she helped herself to a glass of champagne and pottered along to find her father.
Serena saw Arthur a moment before he caught sight of her and she was taken aback for, seeing him there in his armchair, enjoying a brandy, she realised he had somehow – and quite without her realising it – grown old. She felt a momentary shiver of sadness pass through her. Then he spotted her, looked up and smiled – immediately seeming much younger.
‘Mind if I join you?’ Serena asked.
‘I’d love you to. Your favourite beanbag is still available. I can’t believe it’s lasted all these years. Never had the heart to throw it out, although it seems a bit weedy. I’m sure it’s lost most of its filling.’
Serena plonked herself down opposite her father and they beamed at each other contentedly, knowing they would either chat or not bother and either way, it wouldn’t matter.
‘Luna seems happy,’ Arthur remarked at last, cradling his drink and resting it on the paunch of his stomach.
‘I know, on really good form. Seb seems to have made all the difference. I hope it lasts. What do you think of him?’
‘A solid chap, much better than any of the previous ones. Do you remember Colin last year? Sat there through Christmas lunch eating with his mouth open. I couldn’t sit opposite him any longer – had to switch places with you!’
Serena snorted with laughter. ‘Don’t!’ she said. ‘I couldn’t work out what you were playing at and then I looked across the table and realised why you’d wanted to swap. It was so gross!’
‘He didn’t get any of our jokes either . . . I shouldn’t be mean, but he was a complete dullard. I don’t know what Luna saw in him.’
‘Nor do I, but thankfully he’s history. Seb seems much more hopeful. Good table manners, happy to help and – most of all – capable of improving Luna’s mood. I don’t think we could ask for more!’
‘I know she’s difficult,’ Arthur said. ‘But, you know, when I was growing up as a Barnardo’s child, in and out of children’s homes, my one wish was that I had a sibling – someone with whom I could have an unspoken understanding. Every night I used to dream about having a brother. When I met Clive all those years later, it really was a dream coming true. I know it’s a bit different as he and I are so similar. But blood’s thicker than water, my darling. Always remember that.’
‘I know,’ Serena replied. She’d never told her father about the incident with Freddie, but he knew more than anyone what a test it had been to be a sister to Luna. ‘And I really think she’s changing. Seb’s going to be the making of her.’
‘She’ll marry this one,’ Arthur said. ‘You mark my word
s.’
‘Maybe,’ agreed Serena. ‘You’ll never have to give me away though, Dad. Never getting married,’ she declared and she jumped up and gave her dad a hug.
Despite Seb’s good influence, Serena still kept expecting Luna’s mood to darken as the days passed, but when they reached the day of their departure, she was relieved to find there had been no incidents nor even any sour-looking faces during the whole festive period.
They arrived home the day before New Year’s Eve and Will decided to pick up takeaway fish and chips from the chippy around the corner as there was no food in the house.
‘Won’t be long. Warm the plates,’ he said, planting a kiss on Serena’s lips, then whistling as he zipped himself into his jacket and slammed the door behind him.
Serena had just unpacked when she heard her phone ringing.
‘Hel-lo,’ she sang out, having located her mobile.
‘Serena, it’s your mother,’ Stephanie started quietly. ‘It’s bad news, I’m afraid . . . Your father. I don’t know how to say this, Serena. It’s just so dreadful. Serena, he’s died. He’s dead.’ Her voice was louder now. ‘He’s had a heart attack. He’s dead. Dead!’ she almost screamed, sobbing down the phone, and Serena noticed, in a strangely detached kind of way, that this was the first time she’d ever heard her mother cry.
‘I’ll call you back,’ Serena had whispered and crawled into bed where she lay, unmoving, until Will returned with the fish and chips.
Serena began her grieving feeling like a ship that had capsized and was left bobbing around in the ocean. Banjaxed. That was the only word to describe it. She couldn’t cry for the first week and then, when she did, she barely stopped. She was a soggy mess. Then she was angry. Then, as the weeks passed, Serena became just quietly sad. Will wondered if she was depressed, but Serena knew it was grief and that there was a long road ahead of her. She thought about what her friend Lisa had said, who’d lost her mother as a teenager: ‘There’s no place to hide from grief. You can’t climb over it or slide under it. You just have to go through it.’
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