by Rose, Alison
Maggie handed the shocked Kate a hymnbook and gave her a sympathetic look. After a moment, Kate took a deep breath and joined in, her voice not quite steady. Old Mrs Tanner had been the organist and choir mistress for as long as Kate could remember, and although she was a bit strait-laced in the eyes of the younger generation, she had never known her to be so rude.
Is this what Mum’s having to put up with now?
Things settled into their normal routine for a while. Kate felt soothed by the familiar rites and passages.
Maybe Mrs T is getting on a bit. She probably didn’t mean to cut across Mum’s greetings.
Colonel Chambers, who’d retired from the military before moving to the village a dozen years ago, led the prayers. His sonorous tone took them through the usual intercessions for the Queen and government, for the community and the sick, each section of prayers being marked by his clear cut ‘Lord, in your mercy’ and the congregation’s response, ‘Hear our prayer’. And then his voice changed.
‘Merciful Lord, You have seen Your servant be led into temptation and to sin. Help her to see the error of her ways and to return to Your righteous path, so that she may repent of her evil deeds and serve You as You have ordained. Lord in your mercy …’
Kate’s cry of outrage was drowned out by the response of the people around her.
Someone at the back giggled into the brief silence that followed.
Kate saw Alex, pale from shock, lower her head and surreptitiously wipe her eyes as the prayers were brought to a close. When she looked up and Kate caught her eye, the gentle shake of her head told Kate that she didn’t want her to make a fuss. Taking a deep breath, Alex stood and announced the next hymn.
Kate was incandescent, wanting to rage and scream, to swear at these bloody hypocrites for their nasty, small-minded, awful treatment of her mother!
How dare they? How bloody dare they? My mother is a good woman, she’s been good to them. She’s done nothing wrong! How can they possibly think she would? I want to stand up there next to Mum and tell them exactly what I think of them!
But she knew she wouldn’t. She couldn’t do anything to cause her poor, darling mother any further distress. So she kept her tear-filled eyes on Alex, fought to keep her breathing deep and even, and prayed for the end of this terrible ordeal which masqueraded as a celebration of a loving God.
Kate was in the churchyard crying beside her father’s grave when Alex found her at the end of the service. She had escaped the church as soon as the final blessing had been given. She’d sought solitude at her father’s resting place, but it hadn’t helped to stem her angry tears.
‘Kate, darling, don’t please.’ She put a comforting arm around her.
‘Those bloody hypocrites!’ Kate cried. ‘Oh, Mum! How can you stand it! I wanted to stand up in the service and scream at them!’
Alex sighed. ‘I admit, these past couple of Sundays, I haven’t known whether to rejoice that the rumours have brought lost sheep into the fold, or to rain verbal fire and brimstone down from the pulpit on those of the old guard who have been taking every chance to make their feelings known! In the end I decided to hold my head high and try to carry on as normal. It’s been hard though,’ she confessed. ‘They love to say “Thou shalt not commit adultery”, but they’ve conveniently forgotten “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone”.’
‘Not to mention the fact that you’re both single, so you’re hardly committing adultery,’ Kate responded angrily. ‘Miserable bloody lot! You’d think they’d be happy for you.’
Alex laughed, wiping her daughter’s wet cheeks. ‘Thanks, Kate. They’re not all bad, you know. Most of the regulars are on my side. It’s just a vocal few who are making life difficult. It’s good to know you’re there for me too, my darling. I realise it’s hard for you. Come on, let’s go home.’
Kate laid a loving hand on the gravestone before linking arms with her mother and leaving the churchyard. ‘Just don’t let them get to you. You’ve done nothing wrong, and you deserve some happiness. I’d like to get my hands on whoever sent that text message.’
‘At least the phone company switched the SIM card off so it can’t be used again.’ Kate could now see why her mother was considering leaving. People were being so bloody awful to her. Both of her parents had put their hearts and souls into ministering the people of this parish.
That afternoon Kate sat on her mother’s bed watching as Alex closed her case and checked her briefcase.
‘OK, I’m all set. I don’t have to leave for another hour, so why don’t we put the kettle on? Will you make sure you use up the last of the milk before you leave, so I don’t come back to something weird growing in the fridge next week?’
‘OK.’
Kate had just filled the kettle when the doorbell rang. With a resigned sigh, Alex left her to prepare their drinks while she went to answer it. It struck Kate that her mother didn’t enjoy answering her door these days. Perhaps it was time for her to move on after all. She hoped a week away on retreat would help clear her mother’s head, although her own short break hadn’t helped much.
Alex’s joyful cry brought Kate out of the kitchen to find her wrapped in Johnson’s arms, as they kissed passionately. Kate felt herself blush. She could feel the heat the two of them were generating from ten paces!
‘Uh, Mum? I think you’d better bring Johnson inside, or you’ll be excommunicated for sure.’ The couple jumped apart at the sound of her voice, both of them facing her with identical expressions of shock and embarrassment. ‘Afternoon, Johnson,’ she grinned.
‘Yeah, uh, hi, Kate. You’re looking better.’
‘I’m fine thanks. Back to work tomorrow.’
‘Good. That’s good. It’ll be great to have you back. Sandy’s been keeping me in touch.’
‘Why do still call her Sandy?’
Alex raised both hands. ‘Don’t ask. A silly joke from the seventies. I don’t think he remembers my real name.’
Johnson grinned, relaxing a bit. ‘The movie, Grease. She was Olivia Newton-John to my John Travolta. And her real name’s Alexandra Mary.’
‘Well it’ll be changed to Mud if you don’t get in out of sight.’
He frowned. ‘What? Oh, right. Inside.’ He stepped over the threshold. Her mother moved to close the door, but Kate stopped her.
‘I thought I’d pop in and see Rosie. Now seems as good a time as any. You two obviously need to be alone.’
‘You don’t have to …’
Kate laughed. ‘Oh yes I do.’ She had no desire to play gooseberry. ‘There’s tea in the pot. I’ll be back before you leave!’
Rather than take the road, she chose to cut through the churchyard and the Manor grounds to the other side of the village. The Old Manor was now an exclusive hotel.
Kate realised she’d miss the village – even if she wouldn’t miss some of the people! On the whole they’d had a good life here, and she had some wonderful childhood memories. But it was time to move on. Staying was just hurting her mother more.
On top of everything else, Kate decided she definitely didn’t want to stay with The Globe. The pressure her editor was putting on her sickened her. She didn’t want to be part of an industry that fed like parasites on people’s lives. But she didn’t know what she did want to do. Or where she wanted to do it.
Or who wi … oh damn! Yes I do!
She saw him as she entered the churchyard. Paul stood looking at her father’s grave. Her heart missed a beat, and then pounded with excitement. She stood there, undecided whether to go on or turn and run.
Before she could make up her mind, he lifted his head and spotted her. He raised a hand in greeting and jogged over to stand in front of her. He looked beautiful, his long legs encased in their usual denim, his well-worn leather jacket hung open to reveal a plain black T-shirt which outlined rather than hid the breadth of his chest. She wanted to touch him. But she wouldn’t.
‘Hey. How have you been?’
; OK, so if he was going to civil, so could she. ‘Fine. It’s been nice having some time with Mum.’
‘My dad’s gone to see her.’
‘I know. He’s there now. I decided to leave them to it. I felt a bit surplus. It looked like they needed some time on their own.’
‘Are you upset about that? Worried he might take your dad’s place?’
‘No one can take my dad’s place,’ she snapped.
He took a step back. ‘Whoa! OK. Maybe that came out wrong. Let’s try that again. I think Dad’s getting real serious about your mom. And from what I hear, she might feel the same. Is that going to be OK with you, Kate?’
‘Yes. It is.’
‘So why the snapping?’
‘Because … it doesn’t mean Mum didn’t love my dad, OK?’
‘Is that what’s bothering you?’
‘No,’ she snorted. Not since she’d discussed it with her mother. ‘I want her to be happy, and with Johnson she is.’
‘So it must be me that’s making you unhappy.’
‘Who said I was unhappy?’
‘Well, you haven’t smiled since you saw me here.’
Kate raised her eyebrows. ‘Well, you weren’t exactly a barrel of laughs last time we spoke,’ she reminded him.
Paul took a deep breath and let it out again before answering. ‘I’m sorry about that. I was a jerk.’
‘Yes, you were.’ She waited, but he didn’t explain. Kate’s heart sank. She began walking towards the Manor grounds, and he fell into step beside her. She wished he’d go away. That lacklustre apology made her feel like weeping. ‘What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were staying in Bristol.’
‘The rest of the guys are. But Dad wanted to be near your mom, so we’re staying here for the week.’
‘Oh, no. He didn’t tell her, did he?’
‘No. He wanted it to be a surprise. Why, what’s up?’
‘She’s going away. The bishop’s sending her on a retreat.’
‘Oh man! When are those guys going to get some luck? Does she have to go?’
‘I think she needs to. Things have been pretty rough here. You don’t want to know what happened at the service this morning. And if Johnson’s staying in the village, they’ll just get worse. I had to drag them in off the doorstep just now – they couldn’t wait to get their hands on each other. I bet the village phone lines are already sizzling.’
‘Will being seen walking with me make trouble for you?’
‘I don’t give a damn what those busybodies think about me! It’s what they’re doing to my mum that makes me so bloody angry.’
‘Yeah. I get like that when they go after my dad.’
‘But they’re giving you almost as much attention these days. It obviously bothers you, judging by how quick you were to accuse me of Lord knows what.’
‘Kate, I said I’m sorry. It’s a bad habit of mine, OK? I’ve had a lifetime of being marked because I’m Johnson Brand’s son.’
‘It’s not just who your father is, Paul. Can’t you see? You’ve got talent. You look great. You’ve got star quality.’
He slanted a glance at her, his eyebrows raised. ‘Why, Ms Armstrong, anyone would think you actually like me.’
She wrinkled her nose at him. What the hell? Why not give it to him straight? What have I got to lose? ‘I don’t usually cry over men I dislike.’ Kate walked on a few paces before she realised he wasn’t still walking beside her. She halted and turned to face him, chin raised, waiting.
‘The question is,’ he said softly. ‘Do you still like me after the way I’ve treated you?’
‘Possibly. If you stop being a jerk. I might even be able to forgive you that if you’d talk to me. Tell me what’s made you so distrustful and distant. I think I deserve that, don’t you?’
He was silent for a long moment. Kate watched and waited. ‘Is it so hard?’ she challenged. ‘I’m asking as a friend, not a journalist. This is between you and me, not the whole world.’
He held her gaze, and Kate realised yet again that despite his outward confidence and apparently laid back manner, he didn’t trust lightly. Finally, just as she was prepared to walk away, he nodded.
‘OK. Will you come into the hotel with me now? We could have tea.’
She shook her head, coming to a halt under the shade of a large cypress tree on the edge of the manor lawn. ‘I don’t think that would be a good idea. I used to go to school with half the staff in there.’
‘I thought you didn’t care about them.’
‘I don’t, but I’m not prepared to give them a story to sell to a rival paper,’ she countered. ‘Anyway, I’ve promised to visit a friend, then I have to get back. Mum’s leaving soon.’
‘So … when?’
‘Come to dinner at the vicarage tonight.’
‘You can cook?’
‘No, but I can defrost something from my mother’s freezer. She’s an ace cook.’
‘Sounds good. Is seven OK?’
‘All right. I’ll see you then.’ She turned to go.
‘Kate?’
‘Yes?’
He was silent for a while, looking down into her eyes. She drew in a sharp breath when his cool fingers traced a path from her temple to her chin. ‘Your bruises have gone.’
‘Yes. I’m fit to be seen out in public again.’
‘I’m sorry you were hurt.’
‘So am I, Paul,’ she said quietly, wondering whether they were talking about the same hurts. ‘I’ll be more careful in future.’
She wondered if … hoped … was frightened … that he was going to kiss her, but he stepped back, breaking the invisible chains that had been pulling her close to him again.
‘Good idea. I’ll see you later.’
Chapter Twenty-six
Kate felt shaky and dry-mouthed when she let Paul into the vicarage at seven that evening. His sombre expression didn’t help. With a determined lift of her chin she smiled and invited him in. She deftly avoided the kiss he aimed at her cheek by turning and leading the way into the kitchen. I do not want to be kissed like I’m already his sister! She’d set the table in the kitchen.
‘I thought this would be warmer than the dining room,’ she explained. ‘It’s also more private, being at the back of the house. No opportunity for passing paparazzi to see us.’
He stood in the kitchen doorway, his hands in his pockets, and nodded. ‘I guess you’re learning. It’s a damned shame you have to, though.’
Kate sighed. ‘I’ve had to learn some particularly unpleasant lessons lately. I don’t know how you and your dad stand it.’
‘I don’t know what to tell you, Kate. I guess you adapt. You accept some stuff, and learn to avoid the rest where you can.’
‘You’d better sit down. Do you want some wine?’
‘Yeah, sure.’ He moved into the room, shucking off his jacket and hanging it over the back of his chair before sitting down.
‘I’ve only got red, I’m afraid.’ She poured two glasses from the bottle she’d opened earlier.
‘I’m sorry, I should have thought to bring some.’
She avoided touching him by placing his glass on the table in front of him. ‘It doesn’t matter. I don’t drink much, anyway. Here you go. Cheers.’
‘Cheers,’ he responded, picking it up and taking a sip. ‘Mmm. It’s good.’
‘Dinner’s nearly ready. It’s just a casserole and some fresh bread.’
‘Sounds good,’ he nodded sitting down. ‘So are you going to sit and talk to me while we wait, or do I have to get a crick in my neck looking up at you?’
Kate gave a reluctant smile. She sank into the chair opposite him.
‘Did your mom get off OK? Dad wasn’t happy about her going.’
‘Yes. She’s not gone far – about 20 miles away – but it feels like she’s gone to the moon. She’s not supposed to have any contact with the outside world except for dire emergencies.’
‘Sounds like she’s b
eing locked up in jail.’
She shook her head. ‘No, it’s a Christian centre – very nice place. I’ve been there myself on youth weekends and things when I was a teenager. It’s just that the purpose of being on retreat is to cut yourself off from everything so that you can commune with God.’ She took another sip of her wine. ‘And right now, I think that Mum and God need to have a good long chat.’
‘So she’ll come back, having checked with the big guy, knowing exactly what she’s going to do with her life?’
Kate smiled. ‘If she’s lucky. But somehow, I don’t think it’s going to be that easy.’
The ping of the oven timer broke the silence between them, and Kate busied herself serving the food. Conversation turned to the tour and news from the crew, and they enjoyed a companionable meal.
But under the surface, Kate felt sick with nerves. It was becoming harder and harder to remind herself why she needed to keep things light and friendly, to see Paul in a brotherly light, when her whole being wanted to throw herself into his arms.
Which was stupid in the extreme. Hadn’t she learned her lesson? Keep it light. He’s almost family, remember?
What made it worse was that she had no idea how Paul felt. He was going out of his way to be charming and friendly, but she sensed that he was also holding himself apart.
Just sitting down for a simple meal with him was reminding her of the night he’d met her outside her office. Then, she’d determined not to become just another notch on his bedpost – one of many women who had thrown themselves at him. She’d heard rumours, and of course the conversation she’d overheard in the ladies that night in the Italian restaurant had reinforced her impression of him as a playboy.
But she had to admit that over the past few weeks that had been blown out of the water. Paul had been a lot more focused on work than she’d expected. She knew he wasn’t a womaniser. He was a dedicated businessman, a top producer, and he’d written a number of hit songs for other artists.