The Prodigal Wife

by Marcia Willett

  ‘Blast,’ said Lizzie.

  She went out and Jo moved to put some more logs on the fire, stepping over Pooter and Perks, whose tails moved gently.

  ‘D’you remember when Hal and Fliss announced they were getting married?’ Prue asked him. ‘Your engagement reminded me of it. We were all so happy.’

  He straightened up and looked down at her. ‘Yes,’ he said, after a moment. ‘I remember it very well.’

  ‘Fliss is so pleased,’ she said, ‘that you’re happy. It means a great deal to her.’

  ‘I know.’ He stared down into the flames. ‘I owe Fliss a lot. She was very honest with me once, years ago. And very brave. I’ve never forgotten it.’

  ‘She misses Bess and Jamie much more than we realize,’ Prue said. ‘You’ve always been like another son to her.’

  He nodded. ‘I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s not so much to do with blood relationships; it’s not necessarily whether someone’s a son or a father or an uncle that matters. It’s having someone who’s on your side that is important. Fliss has always been on my side. She’s special.’

  Prue nodded her agreement; she couldn’t quite bring herself to speak. Jolyon touched her lightly on the shoulder and went out, and Prue was left alone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Hal laid down the newspaper as Fliss came into the drawing room to sit beside him on the sofa. It was growing dark and pools of lamplight glowed on polished mahogany, reflecting off dark wood panelling and the brass fender. Portraits of long-dead Chadwicks stared down at them from the walls.

  ‘So what was all that about?’ he asked. ‘Has Cordelia got a problem?’

  ‘It’s all very odd,’ she said, tucking her legs underneath her and turning towards him. ‘In fact, I had some difficulty in understanding all of it. Do you remember Cordelia’s ex-husband? Simon March? He was a submariner.’

  Hal shook his head. ‘Name doesn’t ring a bell.’

  ‘What about Angus Radcliff?’

  ‘Oh, yes. I know Angus. We were at the M.o.D. together. Why?’

  Fliss sighed. ‘It’s a bit of a long story. Cordelia told me some of it but it’s got rather complicated so you’ll have to concentrate.’

  Hal listened with interest as she told him about Angus and Cordelia’s first love affair, and how he’d gone to Australia, and then explained how Cordelia had married Simon and why he’d left her and how he’d written to Henrietta. When she embarked on the story of the koala bears and the books, however, Hal’s interest rapidly changed to disbelief and he grew impatient.

  ‘This is crazy,’ he said. ‘Honestly, Fliss. Surely it’s just a practical joke?’

  ‘Even so, you can see how horrid it is for her,’ Fliss protested. ‘And if it is a practical joke, who’s playing it? Remember that the person actually got into the house. Cordelia admits that she’s casual about locking up, but even so, think about it. Who would wander into someone’s house and put a koala bear all amongst the candlesticks and take two books from her study and put them in the kitchen? And what about the photograph?’

  Hal was still disinclined to take it seriously. ‘Is she absolutely certain that she didn’t move the books herself? I mean, it’s so easy to do something and then forget you’ve done it?’

  ‘And what about the koala bears. Two of them? She knows they aren’t hers.’

  Hal shrugged. ‘Honestly, Fliss. It sounds ludicrous.’ A thought struck him. ‘I suppose it couldn’t be Henrietta playing tricks?’

  ‘Of course not,’ cried Fliss impatiently. ‘It’s not a bit like Henrietta. And she’s hardly likely to play tricks about something she still feels very sensitive about.’

  ‘So they think it’s Simon come back to haunt them?’

  ‘I know it sounds weird,’ admitted Fliss, ‘but the Australian touch with the bears, and the book titles seem to hint at it. And then there’s the photograph that came in the post. Who else would know where to find it, let alone send it?’

  ‘He sounds like a nutter,’ said Hal.

  ‘Exactly. That’s why Angus is worried about Cordelia out there all on her own. He wants her to call the police but having listened to your reaction I’m not confident that the police would be particularly helpful.’

  ‘Come on, love. They’ll just think she’s potty. So what are they going to do?’

  ‘Well, that’s why Cordelia phoned. I think Angus is hoping you’ll weigh in on his side and make her take it more seriously. He’s worried about leaving her alone.’

  Hal looked at her, eyebrows raised. ‘Are they having an affair?’

  Fliss shrugged. ‘Probably. After all, he’s a widower and Cordelia’s alone. Why not?’

  ‘No reason. Perhaps Simon has come back and doesn’t like the idea of them getting together.’

  ‘Exactly. That’s the whole point. But what can they do?’

  Hal sat in silence, staring at nothing, whilst Fliss bit her lips anxiously and twirled a strand of hair.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said at last. ‘I simply don’t know. I honestly think that the police are much too busy to take this kind of thing seriously. They might just think it’s a hoax call. Although, if Cordelia reports a break-in they might manage to get someone round eventually. Of course, if this fellow is a bit unbalanced…’

  Fliss folded her arms across her breast and shivered. ‘It’s beastly. I can’t imagine how Cordelia has stayed there all on her own with this going on, though of course she’s got McGregor.’

  ‘Isn’t she frightened?’ asked Hal curiously. ‘You make it sound as if it’s Angus who’s doing the panicking.’

  ‘She says she has moments of terror but deep down she feels certain that it is simply a kind of war of nerves, nothing more than that.’

  Hal raised his eyebrows. ‘Women’s intuition?’

  Fliss made a face. ‘Angus certainly doesn’t go along with it. But what can he do?’

  ‘Well, if it were me, I’d move in with her and wait and see what happens. I really can’t see that they’ve got any alternative. They should report the break-in, even if nothing comes of it.’

  ‘So that’s your advice?’

  ‘If they’re asking for it, yes. Can you think of anything better?’

  Fliss shook her head. ‘She could come here but, like she says, she doesn’t really want to leave her cottage empty and she’s got work to do. It’s so frustrating.’

  ‘Well, tell her she’s welcome here at any time. What a tiresome thing to happen, and especially just now when everyone’s so happy.’

  ‘Well, that’s the other fear. If it is Simon, he might start on Henrietta. And she’s all on her own too.’

  ‘Oh my God!’ Hal looked anxious. ‘I hadn’t thought about that. Does Jo know?’

  ‘Not yet. But I shall tell him and see what he thinks about it. We don’t want to frighten Henrietta, and at least she’s got a friend staying at the moment. And all the dogs, of course, but even so…’

  ‘Even so,’ repeated Hal thoughtfully, ‘we’ll have to pray that Cordelia’s intuition is correct. Jo will have to go and stay with Henrietta until it’s sorted, that’s all there is to it.’

  ‘But that’s the point,’ said Fliss. ‘How does this kind of thing get sorted? It could go on for months. If it is Simon he could keep it up indefinitely. If only we could be certain.’

  ‘Hang on a minute,’ said Hal. ‘I’m sure I can find out what’s happened to him. Well, up to a point, anyway. If he transferred to the Australian Navy there must be a way to check him out. Let me think about it.’

  ‘That would be something,’ said Fliss. ‘I’ll phone Cordelia and tell her. And, by the way, what about Maria’s news?’

  Hal groaned. ‘Don’t. Talk about a disaster. I’m sorry, darling, I really am.’

  He looked so remorseful that Fliss leaned forward and kissed him. ‘Prue says that Jo’s going to have a serious talk with her. I’ve got a feeling that somehow this is the right thing to happen. Something good
will come out of it.’

  He pulled a face of mock alarm. ‘Not more women’s intuition?’

  She grinned. ‘Possibly,’ she said. ‘Don’t knock it,’ and went away to talk to Cordelia.

  ‘So what did he say?’ asked Angus. He paced restlessly, hands in pockets, and Cordelia went to sit in her rocking chair, willing him to be calm.

  ‘Hal’s had rather a good idea,’ she told him. ‘He thinks the police would simply think it a hoax but he’s going to see if he can track Simon down through naval channels; find out what’s happened to him. It might help, mightn’t it? Could he do that?’

  ‘Probably. He’s got lots of clout – and it’s a very good idea – but I’m sorry he’s not more positive about the police.’

  ‘He did say that we should report a break-in but he’s not particularly sanguine once it comes to giving details. It’s like I said, it all sounds so ludicrous.’ She smiled at him, seeing his disappointment. ‘He thinks you should stay with me, though. He agrees with that.’

  ‘It’s not a subject for negotiation,’ Angus said more cheerfully. ‘Was he…were they surprised when they heard I was here?’

  Cordelia shook her head. ‘No. Should they be?’

  ‘I just wondered. You’re happy that I stay for a bit, then? At least until Hal finds out what he can about Simon?’

  ‘I’m a bit worried about Henrietta but we’ll have to go with it, I think. At least she’s got Jilly with her. Let’s hope Hal finds out something helpful. The point is, can you just put everything on hold and move in with me?’

  ‘I’ll have to go over to Dartmouth on Saturday morning. The boat’s being taken out of the water for the winter. And I’ll have to go back now to pick up some gear, but otherwise I’m rather looking forward to it. I wouldn’t mind coming face to face with Simon again.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Cordelia.

  He laughed. ‘Sorry, Dilly. Naturally, spending time with you in an official capacity is a bonus.’

  ‘“An official capacity”?’

  ‘Well, you know what I mean. Since you’re so pathologically determined to keep us low-key I welcome any opportunity to be with you with the blessing of our friends and family. Does that sound better?’

  ‘No,’ she said crossly.

  ‘OK. How about we drive over to Dartmouth together and I collect some clothes?’

  He watched her pick up the photograph and stare down at it reflectively.

  ‘I suppose it could be tested for fingerprints?’ she asked – and stood it up on the shelf. ‘Yes, let’s go and fetch your stuff. To be truthful, I’m glad you’re staying, Angus. It’s getting silly, isn’t it? To begin with, after that thing with the bear and the books, I imagined Simon would just suddenly appear – jump out from somewhere and give me a fright and then that would be that. I really believed that he was hoping for some kind of reconciliation and didn’t quite know how to start it off. Being Simon, he’d need to be in control of it and so he’d want me to be on the wrong foot, so to speak. But I don’t feel quite so sanguine about it now. It’s dragging on a bit, and the photograph is odd. He must have had it all these years. There’s something rather horrid about the idea of him brooding on it all this time…And I’m worried about Henrietta. He can’t hold anything against her, quite the reverse, but I’m beginning to think he might be a bit unbalanced – and that puts a different light on it.’

  ‘If anything happened we’d never forgive ourselves,’ Angus said. ‘I agree that, so far, it’s the kind of rather childish trick Simon might play but he’s carrying it too far.’

  ‘D’you think that if he sees us together all the time it might force him into the open?’

  Angus nodded. ‘Something like that.’

  She looked at him quizzically. ‘It sounds as if you’re looking forward to it.’

  He looked at her. ‘I must admit that I’m rather enjoying the prospect of having a pop at Simon,’ he said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  On Saturday morning Fliss wandered in the garden looking for some late-flowering blooms and thinking about Jo’s imminent meeting with Maria. He’d been rather quiet these last two days and Fliss’s heart had ached for him. The exhilaration was muted now – although part of that might be due to the fact that Henrietta had her friend Jilly staying with her. Jo and Henrietta had agreed that it would be wise to keep a low profile, especially with Jo being something of a personality. Jilly was Susan’s friend too, and Henrietta was still dithering over whether she should telephone Susan or wait until she came home at the end of the month. Meanwhile, Jolyon was keeping his distance and preparing for a heart-to-heart with his mother.

  Fliss cut a few Michaelmas daisies, remembering Cordelia’s question: Are we the first generation to need to be friends with our children?

  Fliss found the question an interesting one. Since her parents had died when she was only eleven years old, she had no benchmark with which to measure her relationship with her own children, but she suspected that she did want to be friends with them: to share their joys and sorrows, to have girly chats on the phone with Bess, and to hear about Jamie’s ideas and what he was thinking and reading. She leaned to cut a spray of berries from the honeysuckle bush that climbed the old stone wall behind the herbaceous border.

  ‘We might like to think that we’re all friends,’ Cordelia had said. ‘But do we continue to have the same authority that our parents had? My mother could still quell me with a glance up until the day she died, but then we weren’t friends in that sense. And in insisting on being friends with our children do we deprive them of a safe place to go when they have real problems?’

  Here again, Fliss had no yardstick with which to compare her own experience. As she crossed the lawn and went into the garden room to put her gleanings into a vase she found that she was thinking of that formidable matriarch, her grandmother. There had never been any question of authority there.

  Fliss thought: Yet we felt so safe with her. So secure.

  Was Cordelia right? If one were to become too friendly with one’s children, might it deprive them of some crucial area of security? How essential her grandmother’s authority had been when she and Mole and Susanna had returned from Kenya; how vital to feel safe and to know that someone was in charge.

  ‘You remind me of old Mrs Chadwick,’ Maria had said to her. ‘You’re not so tall but there’s something about you…’

  She’d tailed off then and talked about something else but Fliss had an inkling of what she’d meant. Other people had remarked on it too. Yet, she didn’t feel anywhere near as confident and strong as her grandmother had been. She certainly didn’t have her authority. Finding a vase, turning on the cold water tap, Fliss looked about her. She remembered her grandmother working here, and herself as a small child, just back from Kenya, curled up in the old wicker chair, watching her. Quite suddenly she was seized by the remembrance of the fear and anguish of those far-off days – and, along with the fear, that all-important sense of security she’d found at The Keep and in the presence of her grandmother.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Jolyon was standing at the door, the dogs at his heels, and Fliss gave a little jump.

  ‘You startled me,’ she said. ‘I was miles away, thinking about when we first came back to The Keep all those years ago. It seemed like a fortress to us. A sanctuary. I was so relieved to be able to pass over the responsibility of Mole and Susanna, and Grandmother was so wonderfully reassuring.’ She looked at him thoughtfully, noting the strain about his mouth. ‘You don’t remember her, do you? She died when you were a very small boy, but she’d have been so proud of you, Jo. Yes, she would. Her greatest wish was that The Keep should be a kind of refuge for the whole family, not just for one or two, or the person who could afford it, but for all of us. She’d have been utterly thrilled to have seen the way you’ve developed Keep Organics, and the fact that it goes a huge way to supporting The Keep. I know you’re going to say that we’ve got our china clay shares, and that Hal’s
pension goes into the pot but, without you, Jo, The Keep would probably now be a dozen flats or a hotel. You’ve done utterly brilliantly, and we’re all proud of you.’

  He looked awkward and rather embarrassed, but pleased too. ‘Thanks,’ he muttered. ‘It just seemed the natural thing to do. To make the place pay for itself. For it to be self-supporting.’

  ‘Yes, but you were the one to think of it. Nobody else did.’

  He nodded. ‘I suppose that’s true. It always seemed sad to see so much of the land going to waste. I remember talking to Uncle Theo about it and it was he who said that maybe we could develop the land beyond the stables and that he’d talk to Dad about it. That’s what got me started.’

  She grinned at him. ‘And Miles giving you the poly-tunnel for your eighteenth birthday – don’t forget that.’

  He grinned back at her. ‘As if I could. That was a great turning point. Miles was brilliant. He did my business plan for me.’ His face grew sad. ‘I used to sit with him in the evenings, after he’d had that stroke, and tell him all my ideas. He was so enthusiastic, and he used to write on that pad of his, d’you remember, because he couldn’t speak properly?’

  He broke off, seeing the tears in her eyes and came to her and put his arms round her.

  ‘Sorry,’ he muttered. ‘Sorry, that was tactless.’

  ‘No,’ she said, looking up at him, trying to smile. ‘Not tactless. Just remembering, which is good. Miles would have been proud of you too, wouldn’t he? What did you tell me? A turnover of one and a half million this year, and a fourteen per cent net profit, and seven vans out on the road. And now you’re a famous TV presenter into the bargain. You’re a true Chadwick and a worthy guardian of The Keep, Jo.’