by Anna Jacobs
'What the hell are you crying for?'
'I cry rather easily at the moment.'
'And . . .'
'This is the first time you've asked me to be your official partner at a function. In over five years, the first time - and just when we both know the relationship's over.'
He grunted, fiddled around with her fingers, then looked sideways at her again. 'I don't want another baby, I will admit, but I don't want us to split up, either.'
'I won't change my mind about having it.'
He let her hand drop and slumped back. 'Could we just -carry on as we are for the time being? Till I can see my way. Till we're sure about that.' He gestured towards her stomach.
She fumbled for a tissue in the box next to the couch and failed to pull one out.
'Here, let me!' He thrust one into her hand and watched as she sobbed into it. Women! And of all the ironies, to get her pregnant the only time he'd been able to manage it recently. That was a turn-up for the books. He waited a minute then said firmly, 'Stop crying now. We have to go out and buy you a knock-'em-dead outfit for the wedding. You're not sick all day long, are you?'
'No. Just in the early mornings.'
'Thank God for that! I'll pick you up this afternoon and we'll go shopping.'
They walked to the door together, his arm rouncl her shoulders. His kiss was gentler than usual. She clung to him for a moment. She didn't usually cling.
As he walked out to the car, he began to grin. Well, at least no one would suspect what his problem was now.
The phone rang one evening exactly a week after the letter's arrival and Leo picked it up. 'Just a minute.' He turned to his wife and daughter. 'It's for me. I'll take it out on the veranda.' He closed the door carefully behind him, glared at the phone and snapped, T have only one thing to say to you. Tell my sister than none of my family want anything to do with her.'
'I'd like to hear that from your daughter. May I speak to her, please?'
'No. She doesn't want to speak to you.'
'It'll take only a minute, but I must hear it from her own lips.' '
Leo disconnected the phone and waited for a minute, breathing deeply, trying to control the anger. When he was calmer, he went back into the family room and put the phone in its socket.
Five minutes later it rang again.
'Don't answer that!'
Kate and Jean looked at him in surprise.
The phone continued to ring.
Kate got up and he blocked her way. 'I said, don't answer it.'
'It's him, isn't it? Mark Felton?'
'No.'
But his tone was unconvincing. Jean looked at him pleadingly. 'Don't do this, Leo.'
The phone stopped ringing.
'It's my house,' he said, taking it off the hook, 'and I'll do what I bloody well want with my own phone.'
'You're despicable.' Kate went into her bedroom and slammed the door on them.
The following morning Kate was woken by her parents quarrelling in the kitchen. They started off in low voices, but their final comments were loud and sharp.
'You've run mad, Leo. How am I going to manage without a phone in the house?'
'It'll only be for a day or two. I'm not letting our Kate get into Maeve's hands, and you'll not persuade me otherwise.'
When the sound of his ute had faded into the distance, Kate got up. 'What's he done now?'
'Taken all the phones in the house with him to work. And he's done something to the point in your bedroom too, so I'm afraid you won't be able to get on the Internet today.' Jean shook her head. 'He said he would last night, but I didn't believe him. I've never seen him so determined about anything. When he gets in this mood, you might as well try to change night to day as change his mind.'
'I've got my mobile if you want to call out, but Mark Felton won't know its number.'
'Thank you, dear. I'm sorry.'
'It's not your fault.'
'I should have been able to stop him. He's being ridiculous!'
'He's only making me more determined than ever to go to England, Mum, even if I have to pay my fare myself. I have Aunt Maeve's address.'
'That would hurt him badly. Are you sure it's worth it?'
'Yes. He's treating me like a child, trying to control me.
I'm ill, Mum, not stupid, and I'm twenty-eight, not eight!' She turned and went into her bedroom, leaning against the door and fighting against tears of sheer frustration.
Just before noon a car pulled into the drive and Jean peeped out of the window. She saw a man get out - slim, neat, with nothing remarkable about him or his vehicle. She guessed who he was and her heart sank as she went to answer the door.
'I'm Mark Felton. I'm looking for Kate Corrigan.'
Torn between two loyalties, she hesitated for a moment then held the door open. 'Come in. If you wait here, I'll fetch my daughter.'
Kate was sitting on the back veranda, staring out across the valley.
'It's the man who phoned yesterday. He's come to see you. Wait am—!'
But her daughter had pushed past her and gone running into the living room. 'I'm Kate.'
'Mark Felton.' He offered his hand and then his business card.
'I don't know what my father said to you last night, Mr Felton. He's physically stronger than I am and he-wouldn't let me answer the phone.'
'He said you weren't interested in Miss Corrigan's offer.'
'He was lying. I'm very interested indeed. I want to accept it and come to England.'
'She'll be glad to hear that.'
From the doorway Jean watched them. Her daughter's face was alight, as it hadn't been for months. It was that more than anything which convinced her she'd done the right thing. She moved forward to join them. 'My husband will be back for lunch soon. Perhaps you could go for a drive somewhere and come back in two hours, Mr Felton? Kate can pack her things and leave with you before Leo comes home tonight. I think it's best we avoid a confrontation or he may say things he'll regret later.'
Kate nodded, so Mark left the house. But as he was getting into his car, a battered ute pulled into the drive and an older man got out. Leo Corrigan.. Mark sighed. No getting out of a confrontation now.
Leo strode across to the car. 'Who are you?'
'Mark Felton.' He offered his card, but it was slapped aside and went fluttering across a flower bed.
'You're not wanted here. Get off my property.'
Mark looked across at Jean and Kate questioningly.
'Leo!' Jean's voice was sharp. 'You can't do this.'
'Just watch me.' He turned to his daughter. 'Get inside the house.'
Kate didn't move. 'You can't order me around like that, Dad.'
'I can while you're living here.'
'In that case, it's a good thing I'm moving out today, isn't it?' She took a deep breath and spoke in a softer voice. 'Dad, please, let's not quarrel about this.'
'I'm not quarrelling, just setting the ground rules. You can choose between me and my sister, but you can't have us both.'
Jean put her arm round her daughter's tense shoulders. 'Leo, that's not fair.'
'I'll do whatever is necessary to protect my family.'
Kate reached up to pat her mother's hand then moved away. She turned to shout across to Mark. 'Can you come back in an hour? I need to pack.'
He nodded and started up his car.
She looked once more at her father, saw the grim resolution on his face, and went back inside the house.
As she was packing, her parents again quarrelled fiercely in the kitchen. Before she'd finished sorting out her clothes, she grew so dizzy she could hardly think straight and sank on to the bed. This was what happened to you with CFS, in a crisis you were useless. She jumped in shock at the sound of her mother's voice next to her.
'You look dreadful, love.'
'I feel dreadful, can't seem to think straight. Where's Dad?'
'Going back to town in a huff.'
'And you're stuck in th
e middle. Poor Mum.' She felt the room swirl around her. 'Could you help me finish my packing? I'm feeling dizzy again.'
'Yes, of course, love.'
There was the sound of the ute starting up and when Jean moved forward to the suitcase on the bed, Kate saw that her mother had tears in her eyes.
'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause trouble.'
'I know. And you didn't cause it. At your age, you're perfectly entitled to do whatever you think best, and so I told your father.' She hesitated, then added, 'But I want you to promise me one thing.'
'What?'
'If Leo ever shows any sign of - of wanting to heal the breach, you'll not hold this against him.'
Kate hugged her mother close. 'I can easily promise that.'
'It's the one thing he's totally unreasonable about, his sister. But even I didn't know how much it had hurt him to lose his old home. Now, let me see what you've got here.' Deftly she pulled the jumble of clothing out of the suitcase and laid it on the bed, taking underwear out of drawers, asking Kate about her preferences, working with her usual efficiency. When the suitcase was full and closed, she looked at her daughter again. 'Will you be all right?'
'I don't know. But she said - Maeve did, that is v - that she'd try to get me medical help. I'll not get better sitting here, Mum. I have to take advantage of this opportunity.'
Fourteen
Cloud shadows drift lightly across the moors. Shadows of buildings sit heavily across whole streets. Shadows of passers-by jerk across pavements in a twitching parody of life.
Judith set off that Monday morning to meet Maeve Corrigan, feeling like a conspirator as she parked her car and walked into the shopping centre. Once inside, she stopped and peered back out to see if her shadow was following her, but the man was leaning back in his car seat lighting a cigarette, knowing she had to return to her vehicle, which was close to his.
Much relieved, she went down to the bookshop and stood outside, scanning the passers-by. A tall, well-built man with short curly hair and an engaging smile stood up from a seat nearby and came purposefully towards her.
'Judith Horrocks?'
'Yes.'
'I thought so.' He held out one hand. 'Andy Blauman. I parked outside in the street, so that we wouldn't need to go back up to the car park.'
His eyes crinkled up at the corners, the lines there hinting at many smiles given and received. He reminded Judith of a big teddy bear Des had once bought her.
He pretended to glance furtively over his shoulder. 'It's like playing cops and robbers, isn't it? Perhaps I should have worn a cloak and false moustache.'
She chuckled. 'Yes.' But then she felt her smile fading. 'Only it's not exactly playing, it's more serious than that, if Maeve is so ill.'
His smile faded and his face sagged into sad lines. Judith wished she hadn't said that so bluntly. He must be very fond of his employer.
It took over an hour to get to Maeve's home in Cheshire.
As they drew up at some big barred gates in a high wall, Andy pressed an electronic gadget and the gate slid sideways. He waited until it had rolled back across the gap before driving slowly along the drive, glancing at her expectantly.
Judith realized why as soon as they came in sight of the house, a small manor house built in black and white panels. 'What a stunning building!'
'Yes. Maeve's father bought it originally and she loves it. She's had a lot of work done on it, because there was some subsidence, and it's been exquisitely restored inside and out.'
'I didn't like my old home at all. My husband chose it and it's one of those crass modern places, looking like a jumble of boxes from the outside, built mainly to show off someone's wealth.'
He smiled. 'And you're an artist, so you should know.'
'Not a good enough artist. Not nearly good enough to earn money from it.'
'Who's been telling you that?'
'My tutor. A while ago now.'
Andy pursed his lips and drew to a halt in front of thcmain door, not moving for a moment as he asked, 'Are you sure he was telling you the truth?'
She could feel herself freezing and after a moment or two realized her mouth was open. 'I never thought of that.' Never, not once. No, not even Des would do that to her, be so cruel. 'Why—' Her voice broke and she had to take a deep breath and start again. 'Why did you say that?'
'We - ah - made enquiries about you and people seemed to think you were rather talented.'
'People?'
'I can get you their names, but I don't remember them off hand.'
'I'd appreciate that. I can't believe Des would—'
'I'll tell you up front that Maeve has a very low opinion of her brother Desmond. She's kept tabs on him for years - on him and his family, just to make sure he wasn't getting up to anything that might harm her. So we know quite a bit about you and your clever son.'
'And yet Des managed to buy her business without her realizing it was him.'
Andy's grin returned. 'Not at all. She knew perfectly well what he was doing, but she wanted to sell, so she let him pay above the odds for it.'
Judith shook her head, at a loss for words.
'Maeve's a very intelligent woman, but she's utterly honest. If she offers you anything today, makes promises, you can trust her absolutely. Oh, and I'd better warn you, she's being treated for cancer, has lost her hair and refuses to wear a wig.' He opened the door. 'Come inside. I'll take you in to see her and later we'll all have lunch.'
Judith followed him into the house, pausing for a moment in the hall to marvel at how exquisite the interior was. Yet it was homely and welcoming, too. She realized Andy was waiting for her near a door on the far side of the hall and pulled herself together, gesturing around. 'Sorry. I was just admiring it.'
'People usually do.' He opened the door and stood back to let her go inside.
Maeve was sitting by the fireplace, a rug across her knees in spite of the warmth of the room. She looked as fragile as spun glass, fey almost. Her head was completely bald, but that only served to highlight her fine bone structure and beautiful green eyes. They were eerily like Des's, yet they had a direct look to them that his didn't.
'Come and sit down, Judith - you don't mind if we use first names, do you?'
'Not at all, Maeve.' She took a chair opposite her hostess and folded her hands in her lap.
'I'll get Lena to bring you some tea.' Andy left them alone.
'So you've separated from my brother. Is that permanent?'
'Yes.' Judith tried to hide her surprise at this blunt personal question from a near stranger. 'Actually, except for his business functions, we've been living separate lives for some time now.'
Maeve grinned as if she understood exactly what her guest was thinking. 'Sorry. I haven't much energy. Don't want to waste what I do have on small talk. Would you mind telling me why you left him?'
'His infidelity and - well, his unscrupulous business practices. I should have left him sooner, when I first found he was being unfaithful, but there was Mitch - and Des swore his first infidelity would be his last. He didn't keep that promise. In fact, he's been seeing his latest woman, this Tiffany person, for years now. She seems to be a permanent fixture.'
'I gather he knocked you down the stairs, hurt your knee. Had he beaten you before?'
'No. He's never even threatened to, but he's been rather grumpy for the past year, touchy, unlike himself.'
'Is he paying you an allowance now?'
'He's stalling.'
'In the meantime you have to live. I'll give you an allowance, if you like, and you can pay me back when things are settled legally.'
Judith gaped at her and it was a minute or two before she could speak. 'Why should you do that?'
'Because you're Mitch's mother and I want to make sure he has somewhere else to go if he falls out with his father. We both know how suddenly Des can quarrel with someone.'
'But why should that concern you when you're . . .' She broke off, realizing what she
had almost said.
'When I'm dying? That's easy. I have plenty of money that I can't take with me. I only kept the old family business for sentimental reasons.' She laughed suddenly. 'And if I'm honest, because I knew it galled Des. What I'm really good at is playing the stock market and I've made my real money that way. I'd like to keep the money in the family when I go, except for what I leave to my staff and Andy. There'll be nothing for Des, obviously, or for Leo either. Well, Leo's a plodder and he couldn't cope with a fortune. But the next generation is different . . . I'll leave them all something, though I'm not leaving big money to a fool. I think I've still got time to get to know them a little and work out who deserves a more substantial legacy from me.'
'I can see that you'd be interested in Mitch, but not me, so I don't understand why I'm here today. Is it you who's having me watched? I'd thought it was Des.'
'It's both of us, but Des's man is clumsy. The people I employ are rather more discreet and I certainly don't feel a need to keep an eye on you every minute of the day, or even every day of the week. I apologize for doing it, but I needed to find out what you were like, you being Mitch's mother. And when you moved to the north, it seemed a good thing for us to meet. I'll say up front, though, that I'm not intending to leave you anything.'
'I wouldn't expect it.'
There was a knock on the door and a plump, grey-haired woman came in wheeling a trolley containing delicate china crockery and a plate of what looked like home-made shortbread. She nodded a greeting to Judith then said firmly to her employer, 'You need to eat something, Maeve. Do I have to stand over you or will you keep your promise this time?'
Maeve spread her hands apart in surrender. 'Ah, you're an old nag, Lena.' She reached obediently for a biscuit, took a bite and waved the rest at the other woman.
Judith was surprised at how warm and loving Maeve's smile was after the crisp tone she'd been employing until now.
'Two pieces,' Lena said.
'Two, then. Even if they choke me.'
When they were alone, Maeve indicated the trolley. 'Please help yourself and I'd like a cup of tea, if you don't mind. Black, slice of lemon, no sugar. Milk makes me nauseous lately.'
Judith served them both, going back for a second piece of shortbread and offering the platter to her hostess, who took another piece with a grimace and ate it quickly and impatiently before resuming the conversation.