Lost Innocence

by Susan Lewis

  ‘At risk of pointing out the obvious, Craig no longer has a say in it. The London house has been sold and all their personal belongings are due to arrive tomorrow.’

  Sabrina looked as though she’d been slapped. ‘Let’s go to the Wheatsheaf,’ he suggested. ‘I’m in the mood for a good steak and theirs rarely fail to hit the spot.’

  ‘So what’s she going to do here?’ Sabrina demanded. ‘Become one of the idle rich, I suppose?’

  ‘Actually, she’s going to open the shop and sell her sculptures,’ he answered, not enjoying this very much, in spite of how relaxed he was managing to sound.

  Sabrina was staring at him in mute disbelief.

  ‘She’s hoping to champion some local talent too,’ he continued, deciding to get it all out. ‘She’s describing it as an arty kind of gift shop.’

  Sabrina’s eyes blazed. ‘We don’t have gift shops in Holly Wood,’ she spat scathingly.

  He almost smiled, but managed not to.

  ‘Next thing she’ll be trying to bring in tourists and that’s not what this village is about. We don’t want outsiders tramping all over our streets, staring in our windows and taking our parking places.’

  ‘She needs to make a living,’ he said quietly.

  Sabrina glared at him incredulously. ‘Are you seriously asking me to believe…’

  ‘She’s had to sell the London house,’ he interrupted, ‘but I’m not going into any more detail than that, because it wouldn’t be right when you feel the way you do about her.’

  So thrown by the fact that Craig hadn’t left his family as comfortably off as she’d expected, it was a while before Sabrina could say, ‘Funny how you never have a problem being loyal to her, but when it comes to me you seem to forget the meaning of the word.’

  He kept his eyes on hers until she realised how inappropriate her comment was, particularly considering how he’d stood by her when she’d got herself into such an appalling state after being forced to break up with Craig.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled, ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’

  ‘Why don’t you start giving some thought to apologising to her?’ he dared to suggest. ‘Since you’re going to be living in the same village, you’re bound to run into one another …’

  ‘I have nothing to apologise for,’ she cut in angrily. ‘Not to her.’

  ‘How can you say that when Craig was her husband…’

  ‘So it was for him to apologise to her, as I did to you.’

  Sighing, he picked up his drink and took another sip. ‘I don’t know why you’ve always had such a down on her,’ he said. ‘You took against her right from the start…’

  ‘Excuse me!’ she cut in savagely. ‘She’s always considered herself better than everyone else…’

  ‘If you’d ever bothered to get to know her properly you’d know how wrong you are.’

  ‘What about her getting to know me? She could barely bring herself to speak to me when we first got together.’

  ‘I surely don’t need to remind you how sick Darcie was at the time.’

  ‘Other people who have sick children bother to be polite. She didn’t even come to our wedding. And in case you’ve forgotten, I was always a very generous hostess whenever they came here, which is a lot more than I can say for her when we were in London.’

  He blinked in amazement. ‘You clearly have a very different view of hospitality to mine,’ he told her, ‘but this is a fatuous argument that’s getting us nowhere. The problem today, as I see it, is that you can’t face up to your own guilt, and unless you do, you’re the one who’s likely to suffer the most.’

  ‘Really?’ she snapped nastily. ‘We’ll see about that. She might have been born in this village, but I’m the one who’s lived here for the past twelve years, and I’m the one who’s on the parish council. So that tacky gift shop of hers? It’ll happen over my dead body.’

  As the door closed quietly behind him Sabrina sank down at the table and buried her face in her hands. She wanted to cry and scream and tear out her hair, she felt so wretched and ignored. No one was sparing a thought for how Craig’s death might have affected her, and the struggle to keep her grief hidden was getting harder all the time. Now, with Alicia showing up and planning to stay, it was as though someone up there was trying to punish Sabrina by making her seem more insignificant than ever. God, how she detested Alicia for being the wife everyone sympathised with, as though she was the only woman who’d ever mattered to Craig. If it weren’t for his children he’d have left her two years ago, and how desperately Sabrina wished he had, because there was no doubt in her mind that he’d still be alive now if he’d found the courage to leave and make a new life with her.

  Chapter Six

  Alicia was standing at the back of her mother’s charity shop, in the space she was intending to use as a studio. To anyone else it probably wouldn’t have appeared at all inspiring, but with her artistic eye she was able to see past all the cobwebs and mice droppings, rotting boxes and books, cracked windowpanes, grimy sink, rusty pipes and peeling paint to a large, bright room with French doors opening to a small back patio with its bedraggled flower pots and the outside loo (as yet unexplored). Though the space was smaller than she remembered, it was definitely big enough for her to work in, while the shop itself offered plenty of room for display stands and cases, and a deep bay window where prize pieces could be exhibited to the passing world.

  Since Holly Wood didn’t attract many visitors, she’d have to be imaginative and highly motivated when it came to marketing herself, but she had friends in London who she was sure would advise, and perhaps even send the odd client or ten her way. Locally she could advertise in parish magazines and West Country newspapers – when she could afford it. To get started it might be a good idea to design a flyer to put up in the county’s main tourist offices, as well as various village halls and gastropubs.

  Meanwhile, she needed to make some room here for the removal men to deliver her work table, welding equipment, and finished sculptures. Since the only brush to hand was all woodworm and no bristles, she’d have to run back to the Coach House to get one. At the same time she’d pick up some bin bags, a bucket, scouring pads, Cif and some rubber gloves.

  Letting herself out of the shop, she locked the door with its old-fashioned key, gathered up an abandoned bag of old shoes that someone had left heaven only knew when, and turned towards the pub. She was still a little bleary-eyed after one too many last night, but it had been fun sitting in the Traveller’s garden with Nat and Summer, and Rachel and her family, feeling able to relax for a few hours before the real challenge started today. Just thank goodness Sabrina and Robert hadn’t shown up. Maggie had told her they’d booked, but had cancelled last-minute, which was no problem for Maggie, since there were plenty waiting to take their place. For Alicia it was a dizzyingly narrow escape, though obviously the dreaded encounter would have to happen sooner or later. When it did it would be the first time they’d come face to face since the day they’d laid into one another in front of her mother – apart from at Monica’s funeral when they’d studiously ignored one another – and right now the only feeling Alicia could muster for the woman was that she’d like to punch her all over again.

  As she rounded the corner into The Close her spirits rose to see Rachel’s car parked behind the removal van. ‘What are you doing here?’ she called out, as Rachel emerged from the front door with Nat.

  ‘I had a house call on Sheep Lane,’ Rachel answered, coming to give her a hug, ‘so I thought I’d drop in to find out how it’s all going. How’s the shop?’

  ‘In need of much elbow grease and TLC, but nothing seems to be leaking, so it shouldn’t take too long to turn around. My able-bodied son here has offered to paint it for me, haven’t you darling?’

  ‘I have?’ he blinked.

  She smiled.

  ‘I have,’ he confirmed.

  Rachel laughed. ‘I’ve got a whole surgery that needs doing,�
� she told him, ‘if you want to earn some cash.’

  ‘That’s more like it,’ he responded, rubbing his hands together. ‘It’s only slave labour around here, and I’ve got an expensive girlfriend to support.’

  ‘What are you saying about me?’ Summer demanded, tripping out of the house in a tight little mini dress and clumpy basketweave wedges.

  ‘Mrs Carlyle? Are you down there?’ a removal man shouted from the top of the stairs. ‘Do you want us to put this desk together for you? We’ve got time.’

  ‘You’re an angel,’ Alicia called back. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Most of your stuff’s in now,’ Nat told her. ‘They’re in Darcie’s room at the moment. Mine’s done, so it won’t be long before they’re ready to come to the shop.’

  ‘In which case I need to get myself backup there pronto to make some room,’ Alicia replied, starting in through the door.

  ‘Wrong direction,’ he pointed out.

  ‘Brushes, brooms, buckets,’ she informed him.

  Glancing at her watch Rachel said, ‘I’ve got half an hour to spare before I’m due back at the surgery, I’ll come and lend a hand.’

  Ten minutes later she and Alicia were hauling and sweeping rubbish out of the back room into the shop, where Nat and Summer were bagging it ready to take to the tip. There was no clear route through to the soon-to-be-studio yet, but at the rate they were going there would be by the time the removal men turned up.

  ‘Need any more hands?’ a voice shouted from the front door. It was Rachel’s Aunt Mimi, popping in from her flower shop next door. ‘Pete’s free if you want anything doing.’

  ‘I think we’re OK for the moment,’ Alicia laughed, going to embrace her.

  ‘Unless Pete’s up for sorting out a grungy old loo,’ Rachel shouted.

  Mimi’s devilish eyes twinkled. ‘I’ll give him a call and get him down here pronto,’ she said, ‘then I’ll bring in some coffee for you all.’

  ‘You’re a sweetheart,’ Alicia told her.

  Mimi had barely left before Alicia heard more voices out at the front and, looking up, she felt her insides give an uneasy lurch when she saw who it was.

  ‘Oh blimey,’ Rachel murmured.

  Annabelle, looking breathtakingly grown-up, was blatantly checking Nat out, while the friend with her was treating Summer to an outrageous once-over. However, Summer wasn’t the daughter of an earl for nothing, because her look back was so witheringly disdainful that the other girl blushed and turned away.

  ‘Annabelle,’ Alicia said warmly, breezing into the shop. ‘What a lovely surprise.’

  ‘Hey,’ Annabelle responded, tearing her eyes from Nat. ‘I heard you were here so we came over to say hi. It’s been ages since we last saw you. I thought you’d forgotten about us. Oh yeah, and I’m sorry about Uncle Craig. That was terrible.’

  Alicia kept her smile in place as she embraced her step-niece. She probably hadn’t meant her condolence to come out as such a crude afterthought. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘It’s good to see you. You’ve grown into a very striking young lady.’

  Annabelle preened and glanced at Nat. ‘So how long are you staying?’ she asked.

  ‘We live here now,’ Alicia answered, still shaken by how adult and apparently full of herself Annabelle seemed. ‘We’re just sorting out the shop ready to turn it into a kind of workshop-cum-gallery.’

  ‘Cool.’ Annabelle cast another look in Nat’s direction, but he’d turned away to carry on filling bags.

  ‘Hello, I’m Alicia,’ Alicia said to the other girl.

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ Annabelle said, ‘this is my friend Georgie.’

  ‘Hey,’ Georgie said, fanning her fingers.

  Annabelle turned her attention to Summer. ‘And you would be?’ she prompted rudely.

  ‘This is Summer, Nat’s girlfriend,’ Alicia informed her.

  Annabelle looked Summer up and down. ‘Nice to meet you too, Nat’s girlfriend,’ she drawled. ‘Cool dress. D&G?’

  Summer nodded. Her pale freckled face was showing how confused she was by the undercurrent.

  ‘Mm, thought so.’ Turning back to Nat, Annabelle said, ‘We’ll have to catch up sometime. Maybe we can have a game of draughts.’

  From the way Nat reddened and Georgie sniggered, Alicia guessed the comment was a sexual euphemism that probably only teenagers understood.

  ‘We need to go,’ Georgie muttered. ‘They’ll be here any minute.’

  Annabelle turned back to Alicia. ‘It’s great you’re here,’ she said. ‘You’ll have to come over to the house sometime, I know Mum would love to see you,’ and with a sweet little smile she started towards the door. ‘Oh, in case you’re interested,’ she said to Nat, ‘there’s going to be a rave in the Copse in a couple of weeks. Everyone’s going.’

  ‘Yes, Simon Forsey mentioned it,’ he told her.

  Her eyebrows went up. ‘Then maybe you’ll both come,’ she murmured, and with an outrageously suggestive sweep of her eyes, she followed Georgie out into the street.

  ‘Who on earth was that?’ Summer demanded as soon as Annabelle was out of earshot.

  ‘A kind of cousin, but not,’ Nat answered. ‘Her mother’s married to Mum’s brother. Anyway, forget her, she’s no one.’

  Alicia blinked at the sharp dismissal of someone he’d once been very close to, but actually she was rather glad of it, considering how awkward it might be if they were to become friends again. Returning to the studio, her eyebrows lifted as she met Rachel’s eyes.

  ‘Talk about jail bait,’ Rachel murmured.

  ‘She’s terrifying,’ Alicia agreed. ‘If her mother was anyone but Sabrina I’d feel sorry for the poor woman.’

  ‘As it is, we won’t waste the time. What was that about draughts?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. You probably have to be their age to understand it.’

  Rachel was shaking her head, and watching as a BMW convertible pulled up across the road for Annabelle and Georgie to get in. ‘We weren’t like that at her age, were we?’ she said. ‘I know we were into boys by then, but I can’t imagine we were ever so upfront about it.’

  ‘Are you kidding? I was eighteen before I could even look a boy in the eye.’

  Rachel laughed. ‘Yeah, really,’ she said. ‘More like fourteen, but that was about all we did, and a bit of snogging, I suppose. As for her, if that girl’s still a virgin then I’m a talking horse.’

  Alicia laughed, then yelped as Nat came up behind her and dug her in the ribs. ‘Removal men just called, they’re on their way up,’ he told her. ‘I’m going back to the house to carry on sorting stuff there. Call if you need me.’ He put his mouth to her ear. ‘And when we’re done there’s something I want to ask you.’

  ‘So what was that about draughts?’ Summer wanted to know as she and Nat walked back to the Coach House.

  His expression tightened slightly. ‘Oh, she was just being puerile,’ he replied irritably. ‘Take no notice. She’s not someone we have to bother about.’

  ‘But if she’s your cousin…’

  ‘She’s not really, and anyway, it makes no difference. We never see them. I mean, Mum sees her brother, or she did yesterday, but that was the first time in I don’t know how long. Apart from at Dad’s funeral.’

  ‘Really? Did they have a falling-out or something?’

  ‘Not them, it’s Mum and his wife, Sabrina, who don’t speak. Something happened a couple of years ago, but don’t ask me what, it’s not something I’ve ever gone into.’

  Summer shrugged and stood aside at the gate for two removal men to traipse past on their way out.

  ‘Mum’s about ready up there,’ Nat told them. ‘The sculptures are basically unbreakable, but they weigh a ton, and her welding stuff’s more precious than jewels, so good luck.’

  ‘That’s an impressive computer you’ve got in your room,’ one of them commented. ‘Wouldn’t mind something like that for my lad.’

  Nat’s eyes flickered to one side. ‘It was
my dad’s,’ he told him.

  The removal man gave Summer a friendly wink and carried on out to the truck.

  ‘Are you going to talk to your mum about us sharing a room?’ Summer murmured, once she and Nat were inside and locked in an embrace.

  ‘Mm, when the time’s right. I’ll take you over and show you the Copse later, it’ll give us a chance to be on our own for a while.’

  As he kissed her he found himself thinking about the first time he’d kissed Annabelle, in her room over at Uncle Robert’s house. She’d been twelve at the time, and he was fourteen.

  ‘I thought we were supposed to be playing draughts,’ she teased, as they sat together on the edge of her bed, holding hands and their lips barely inches apart after their first brief touch.

  ‘Didn’t you like that?’ he asked, feeling hot and self-conscious and rigid with terror at the thought of someone coming in.

  Her eyes went down as she thought about it, then came up to him in a childishly flirtatious way. ‘Why don’t we do it again, and then I’ll be able to tell you,’ she said.

  Overcome by her response, he put his lips against hers again, feeling his own trembling slightly as he moved them around a little, then opened them up. Her lips were soft and yielding and came apart with his in a way that made him feel drunk and afraid, it was so good. He took a peep and saw that her eyes were closed. He was trying to ignore what was happening to him down below, but it was becoming bigger and more urgent by the second. He put a hand on her neck and smoothed the skin, still kissing her and wondering if he dared use his tongue. He had with other girls, but they were the same age as him so that was all right. Annabelle was still young and he didn’t want to scare her. Then he felt her tongue touching his lips and suddenly he was so hard that it made him dizzy with lust and excruciating embarrassment.

  ‘Oh my God,’ she giggled when she realised what was happening.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled, trying to get away from her. ‘No, don’t be,’ she said. ‘It’s good that it happened. It means you really like me.’

  ‘Of course I like you,’ he said, needing to get to the bathroom.