The Prodigal Wife

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The Prodigal Wife Page 29

by Marcia Willett


  Cordelia smiled. Are we the first generation to need to be friends with our children? That article, along with the one about the soke, had been accepted and she was now working on the idea she’d talked about with Maria, when they’d stood on the balcony and discussed the difference between self-blame and true humility. It was complicated and probably out of her league but she really wanted to have a try at it.

  The second phone call, from her agent, had filled her with a different kind of delight. She’d emailed Dinah with a synopsis of an idea for a novel and then waited in terror for her to tell her that it was rubbish. To her amazement Dinah had been very excited and told her that she couldn’t wait to see the first three chapters.

  ‘Terror with a humorous twist!’ she’d said. ‘Difficult to bring off but I like the idea. It’ll be interesting to see how you handle it. Have you had much experience of being stalked?’ She’d chuckled at the absurdity of such a possibility.

  Cordelia had laughed too. ‘You’d be surprised,’ she’d said lightly.

  The ideas were seething in her head: characters, fragments of conversation, bits of plot, the crucial decision about where to set it. She’d already begun to block it out, knowing exactly how it must end, and now she needed to make some notes before she went off to see Henrietta. When her mobile rang she had to leap up and search about for it; she’d left it in the kitchen.

  ‘Angus,’ she said, out of breath. ‘Sorry, darling. I couldn’t find the damned phone. Are you OK?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ he said. ‘Still OK for this evening, Dilly?’

  ‘Absolutely OK. Listen, Henrietta just phoned and asked me to meet her for lunch. Isn’t it great? She invited me. Without prompting. I didn’t have to hint. I’ll be back late afternoon, though, so come over at about six.’

  ‘Sounds good,’ he said, ‘and so do you. Is it just Henrietta’s invitation that’s put that note in your voice? What else has happened?’

  ‘Oh, darling,’ she said, ‘something is rather good but I don’t want to tell you over the phone. And it’s very early days…Look, I’ll tell you tonight. Promise. But it must be a secret.’

  ‘I can’t wait. As long as it’s nothing to do with that wretched woman.’

  ‘No, no. That’s all over. I told you there was nothing else to worry about there.’

  ‘Mm,’ he said non-committally. ‘OK. Well, see you later, Dilly.’

  Cordelia went back into her study and stood for a moment, thinking about the last few weeks. She picked up a postcard that was propped against the clock. She studied the picture of a dramatic north country scene and then turned it over and reread the message on the back: ‘I’d forgotten how beautiful this country is. I’ve decided to put the past right behind me and settle near my family here. It was good to meet you. Good luck and goodbye.’

  It was signed ‘Elinor Rochdale’. Cordelia stood the card back on the shelf: she too was learning how to allow the past to settle into its proper place. No doubt the black clouds of guilt and sadness would continue to roll by but that didn’t mean that she must put her head in them: she could choose not to. She went back to her desk and with a sigh of pleasurable anticipation she settled down to work.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  A few weeks later Prue was sitting by the fire in the hall watching Jolyon and Sam setting up the Christmas tree. When he first heard the news, Sam had been dismayed at the prospect of both Jolyon and Lizzie going away for Christmas, but Jolyon had been determined that there were certain things that he and Sam must do together before he went: setting up the Christmas tree, bringing in the enormous Yule log and cutting holly out on the hill. There were other important tasks Jolyon was entrusting to Sam in his absence: the care and welfare of the dogs, and the filling of the log baskets in the hall and the drawing room. This was very clever of Jolyon. The idea that Sam was in charge of certain things, and a necessary link in the smooth running of the daily routine, had given him a sense of importance and responsibility and it was clear to Prue that a part of him was almost longing for Jo and Lizzie to be gone so that he could take complete charge.

  From time to time Sam glanced at Prue, just to be certain that she was watching his heroic efforts, and she would nod her approval and admiration and he would redouble his efforts in hauling the great tree upright. Jolyon winked at her and she smiled at him, feeling so proud of him, and very grateful. She knew just how lucky she was to be a part of this family; loved and cared for and valued. As she grew older she blessed her mother-in-law, Freddy Chadwick, for inviting her to make her home here at The Keep with those people she loved best, and just for a poignant moment she recalled the Bidding Prayer for Christmas Eve: ‘We remember those who worship with us but on another shore and in a brighter light’. They were all gone now, those friends of her young womanhood: Ellen and Fox, who had worked so hard to make The Keep a home; Uncle Theo, with his great wisdom and staunch support; dear Caroline, her oldest, closest friend – oh, how she missed Caroline – and Freddy herself, of course: that autocratic woman who had held them all together through those difficult years, after the three small children, Fliss and Mole and Susanna, had arrived from Kenya.

  As she watched, Prue found that her thoughts were wandering to other times and other Christmases. Sometimes Jo looked like his grandfather, her darling Johnny, just before he’d gone away to war, and sometimes he looked like Hal; and Sam was so like his father that, every now and again as he beamed proudly across at her, she could believe that it was Mole struggling to hold the tree upright whilst Jolyon stacked large stones round its base in the huge earthenware pot.

  Fliss came in with the cardboard box of decorations she’d fetched down from the attic, and smiled at the workers.

  ‘Here we are,’ she said. ‘Well done, Sam. What a fantastic tree.’

  Both of them stood back to admire their efforts and then Sam began to unpack the decorations while Jo strolled over to the fire and continued to gaze upon his handiwork.

  ‘It’s a good tree,’ he said. ‘It’ll be nice to have it up and dressed before I go, though it’s a few days earlier than usual.’

  ‘Are you ready for the great trek to the North?’ asked Fliss. ‘I’m glad that you’re going to see Maria on the way. She must be so thrilled about that.’

  ‘She is,’ he said. ‘It seemed the right thing to do. My problem is that I haven’t got a present for her yet.’ He frowned. ‘It seems to be proving more difficult than it ought to be but I’m probably being oversensitive about it.’

  ‘I think I know what you mean,’ Prue said. ‘It’s important, isn’t it? When there’s been a breakdown and then a coming together again, the first present you give is significant, isn’t it?’

  He looked at her gratefully. ‘That’s exactly it. After all, she might so easily have made Christmas a bit of an issue but she didn’t. She took on board what I said to her about giving us all space and I respect her for that. It was my idea that I should drop in and see her on my way to London to pick up Henrietta. She’s put no pressure on at all. I’d like to show her that we’ve got a future. Just buying a box of chocolates or some soap seems a bit mere. Anyway, I shall have to make a decision very quickly. I thought I’d go into Totnes this afternoon and have a look round. Hang on, Sam. Don’t try to reach too high or you’ll have the whole tree over. Anyway, we ought to get the lights on before we decorate it. Wait a sec and I’ll go and get the little stepladder.’

  He went out.

  ‘Isn’t it wonderful?’ said Prue contentedly. ‘The dear fellow seems so much happier, doesn’t he? And being able to forgive his mother is so much a part of it. Nice for Maria, but even more crucial for Jo. If he can be generous to her it will bring him such healing as well as new strength and confidence. All will be well, I feel sure of it.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I think so too,’ Fliss agreed rather abstractedly. ‘Actually, you’ve just given me an idea. Shan’t be long.’

  She followed Jolyon out of the hall, and Prue settled agai
n in her corner. She watched Sam crouching over the box, turning over the decorations, bringing out much-loved objects: Victorian glass baubles, tiny carved wooden figures, glittering ropes of tinsel, and she recalled other trees and other Christmases, long past, and one in particular forty-five years ago. Hal and Kit had gone on to Devon at the beginning of the school holidays, she remembered, and she’d travelled from Bristol by train as soon as she’d finished work, arriving at The Keep late on Christmas Eve.

  Christmas 1965

  When she comes into the hall, fetched from the station by Fox, they are all waiting for her. The tree, soaring up to the ceiling, is covered in lit candles, the only light apart from leaping flames in the great, granite fireplace. The tinsel and baubles shine and glitter, and tiny parcels, beautifully wrapped, hang from the stronger boughs. Holly and mistletoe, tied with scarlet ribbon, decorate the hall; mince pies and sherry are waiting on the table before the fire. She stands quite still, just inside the door, and stares in delight while the family smile at her pleasure.

  ‘It’s perfect,’ she says at last and – as though she has released them from a spell – they surge forward to greet her, hugging and kissing her, making her welcome.

  They gather about the fire, whilst Susanna and Mole crawl round the tree, feeling the presents piled beneath it and Hal, under the cover of conversation, kisses Fliss under the mistletoe whilst Kit watches them and smiles.

  Later, Prue and Caroline, with the two girls and Hal and Theo, go to Midnight Mass. Caroline drives and Hal sits in the back with Fliss on his lap, whilst Prue and Kit squash in beside them. The old grey church is ablaze with candlelight and, when they come out, a cold white moon hangs in a starry sky. Their breath smokes in the freezing air and the frost crunches beneath their feet.

  As the car pulls into the courtyard, the front door opens and the light from the hall streams down the steps and across the grass. Freddy stands waiting for them, tall and slim in her high-necked blouse and long velvet skirt, with a shawl about her shoulders.

  ‘The children are in bed at last, stockings hung up,’ she says, ‘waiting for Father Christmas. Fox has made up the fire and Ellen has just brewed some hot coffee. Come in and get warm. And a very Happy Christmas to us all.’

  They stand for a moment, listening to the Christmas bells ringing out across the quiet countryside, smiling at one another, and then they all go inside and close the door behind them.

  ‘I can’t believe we’re really on our way,’ Henrietta said, as they joined the M1 and headed to the North. ‘And the traffic’s not too bad, is it? Tomorrow would have been worse. Travelling on Christmas Eve would have been awful.’

  ‘Susan seemed OK,’ Jo said. ‘Not as difficult as I thought she might be. Very matey, actually. Though with Maggie and Roger there I suppose she couldn’t really be much else. They’re absolutely thrilled. It was great to see them.’

  Henrietta made a little face. ‘She’s got a soft spot for you, and it’s difficult for her to be really negative when your family has known hers for such a long time, but she still gets very depressed and when we’re on our own she does this boring preachy thing and tells me I need to be really sure and stuff like that. It’s getting me down a bit, but thank God that the new nanny can start immediately after Christmas. She’s so nice and the children like her a lot. I think it will be fine.’

  ‘It was lucky for us that Susan found someone so quickly. But can she afford to stay on in the house?’

  Henrietta shrugged. ‘There have been mutterings about Maggie and Roger selling the cottage and moving in on the top floor so that they can buy Iain out.’

  Jo made a doubtful face. ‘I heard that too. Would that be wise? Poor old Roger would certainly miss his sailing, and what about the dogs and the ponies?’

  ‘Well, it wouldn’t be easy, but all I’m saying is that it’s under discussion. To be honest, I shall be glad to be out of it. I know that makes me sound a real cow but there’s nothing I can do, and now that we’re engaged it’s changed the relationship between me and Susan somehow so that I don’t feel that I’m being much comfort to her. I can’t really settle back to it all and I don’t like being so far away from you. It was just so nice having our own space. And I miss the dogs terribly, especially Tacker. He was just so sweet.’

  ‘It’s odd, isn’t it, how life goes in cycles,’ said Jo. ‘Suddenly, out of the blue, something happens and everything changes.’

  She nodded. ‘It’s a bit like you and your mum, isn’t it? I’m glad that went OK.’

  ‘I was a bit nervous,’ he admitted. ‘I thought there might be a touch of the old emotional drama once we were all on our own again but she was fine. She seems more balanced, calmer. I’m so glad she’s decided to stay on for a bit with Penelope and Philip. They’re such good friends and it gives everyone a breathing space.’

  ‘And I think your present for her is a brilliant idea.’

  ‘Well, it was Fliss’s idea, really, but once we’d talked about it I knew she was right. I just hope she’ll see the point of it.’

  ‘Of course she will. I had the same problem about what to get for my mum. I think that she’ll be really thrilled with the mobile, don’t you? Hers is so old and out of date. It was so sweet of Fliss and Hal to invite her for Christmas Day. I’m glad she won’t be on her own. So what have you bought for me, then?’

  Jo pulled into the outside lane and put his foot down on the accelerator, remembering his conversation with Maggie a few weeks previously.

  ‘It’s just a thought, Jo,’ she’d said, ‘but I can see that there might be big changes coming up for us all, and poor Tacker misses Henrietta dreadfully. I know of someone who will take the ponies if it comes to it but the prospect of three dogs in London is a bit too much for me. What d’you think? Could you manage Tacker, the two of you, in your gatehouse? He can be an early wedding present.’

  He’d said ‘yes’ and arranged for Tacker to arrive the day after he and Henrietta got back to The Keep. She was watching him now, and he smiled.

  ‘I’ve got you a small token of my esteem,’ he said teasingly, ‘but your real present will be waiting for you when we go home.’

  ‘Home,’ she said happily. ‘Oh, Jo, won’t it be fun?’

  ‘That was a text from Henrietta,’ Cordelia said, putting down her phone and picking up her glass. ‘They’ve arrived safely at their hotel and everything is utterly wonderful. Let joy be unconfined.’

  Angus slipped his arm around her. ‘I’m sorry that we shan’t be together for Christmas Day,’ he said, not for the first time, ‘but the boys thought it was such a great idea to take a house in Cornwall so that all the family could be together for the holiday that I didn’t have the heart to refuse.’

  ‘Of course not,’ she said quickly, ‘and I think it’s important for you all to be together. I told you, I shall be very happy at The Keep, and after all, we’ll be going to Pete and Julia at Trescairn for New Year together. That’ll be great fun.’

  He nodded and she felt relieved: it seemed that they’d both entered into a tacit agreement that they should continue their relationship just the way it was. Cordelia had described to him her ideas for the new novel, and hinted at how hard she’d be working, and he’d told her about plans he’d made with Pete for an extended sailing trip in the Med next summer. Neither implied that their present living arrangements should change; both made it clear that they were extremely happy in each other’s company.

  ‘I told Henrietta that you and I were going to Trescairn for New Year,’ she said, ‘which was rather courageous of me, and she said, “Have a great time.” Such a relief.’

  ‘That’s good,’ he said. ‘I can see that she’ll need time to adjust to me being around but if she can accept our relationship it will be a miracle. I hope I’ll get an invitation to the wedding.’

  ‘Of course you will,’ she said firmly. ‘And meantime we’ll play it by ear. Just as long as we can all keep playing happy families, that’s all I c
are about.’

  He chuckled, holding her closer. ‘Don’t you mean Cluedo?’ he asked. ‘Colonel Mustard and Mrs Peacock, in the bedroom, with the bottle.’ He raised his glass. ‘Happy Christmas, Dilly.’

  Fliss drove home alone from Midnight Mass. At least Susanna and Gus had been at church; she’d been so pleased to see them. At the last moment Hal had decided not to go; he would take Prue and Sam to the morning service, he’d said, whilst she and Susanna were organizing the lunch and waiting for Cordelia to arrive. Fliss had been surprised at his decision but she hadn’t argued; he’d behaved as though there were some hidden agenda and she guessed that it might be to do with her present: perhaps it was a joint present from the three of them, Sam, Prue and Hal, and they wanted time together to sort it out. Anyway, she’d been slightly anxious at leaving Prue and Sam on their own together, the youngest and the eldest, although she wouldn’t have wanted them to suspect such a thing. They were both very independent, and very capable. It was simply her mother-hen tendencies that made her worry about them.

  As she drove through the archway she was struck by the oddness of seeing the gatehouse in darkness, though the lights shone out cheerfully from the hall. She put the car away and crossed the courtyard, climbed the steps and opened the door. To her surprise Prue was still up, sitting by the fire, and Hal was standing as if he’d just got to his feet, and was waiting for her. Sam was there too; obviously he’d had special dispensation to stay up late. He beamed at her – looking heart-breakingly like Mole – and she saw that all three of them were watching her in an oddly expectant way, with a kind of suppressed excitement. Puzzled, she shut the door, glancing round to see what it might be that they were so clearly hoping she would notice. From the corner of her eye she saw a figure step out from the shadows just behind her; she turned sharply with a little cry of alarm and Jamie said, ‘Hi, Mum. Surprise! Happy Christmas,’ and held out his arms to her.

 

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