by Fanny Blake
‘This looks amazing.’ Kate eyed the two salads, the cheeses and bread. ‘Shall I?’ She picked up the bottle of water.
‘Anyone for wine?’ Amy nodded towards a bottle of rosé in an ice bucket.
‘Yes, please.’ Immediately Linda realised she’d replied too fast. ‘If anyone else is,’ she added.
Jane put her hand over her glass and Linda’s heart sank. A glass of wine would make getting to know each other again so much easier.
‘That would be great.’ To Linda’s relief Kate spoke up, ignoring Jane’s raised eyebrow. ‘I know it’s lunchtime but we’re on holiday and we haven’t seen each other for years.’
‘Not since I …’ Amy began to pour.
‘I’ve never forgotten your Mum’s front room.’ Kate spoke over Amy, whether deliberately or not, Linda couldn’t tell. ‘All that fabric piled up all over the place, dresses hanging everywhere and her at her sewing machine in the middle of it all. There was hardly room to sit down.’
‘That’s where you must have got it from.’ Jane extended a lazy hand towards their surroundings. ‘All this.’
‘Maybe, and she’ll never know. That’s my one sadness. That she died before Amy Green really took off.’ Amy laughed. ‘Well, OK, four-town-wide and online. But that’s enough for me. You know, if someone had predicted what would happen, I’d never have believed it. I was so embarrassed by that front room.’
‘You shouldn’t have been. She made Mum an amazing suit once. Pink with pockets. And all those costumes for Mrs Jay’s dance shows.’
‘Mrs Jay …’
And they were off, reminiscing about one teacher then another. ‘Remember how we put deodorant in Miss Wesley’s locker?’ Linda remembered how Amy had tried to persuade them not to and Jane had sworn blind she had nothing to do with it when questions were asked.
‘Yes. And I took the flak for it,’ said Kate, laughing.
‘We were doing her a favour. How bad was her BO?’
‘She probably couldn’t help it. Some people do have a real problem.’ Jane spoke in all seriousness.
The three of them turned on her in astonishment.
‘That wasn’t what you said at the time. You were the one who put us up to it. Remember?’ Kate dared contradict her.
Jane looked puzzled. ‘Me? I don’t think so.’
‘Yes! You got us into so much trouble. But somehow you were always the one who came out smelling of roses.’
‘That’s not true.’ Jane took off her sunglasses, anchoring them by sticking one of the arms in the centre of her cleavage. ‘Guys?’ she appealed to the other two. ‘Support me.’
‘What about the time you and Amy were caught shoplifting?’ Linda saw the twist in Amy’s mouth as she looked down and realised she’d said the wrong thing.
‘I had to do that.’ Jane looked away.
‘What? Put the blusher and lipstick into my bag so I’d take the rap?’ Amy’s voice was controlled as she passed round the salad.
Jane grimaced as if she didn’t like what she was hearing. ‘But my dad would have gone mental if I’d been caught.’
‘And it didn’t matter if mine did?’ The salad bowl was banged onto the table.
‘Of course it did.’ Jane picked up her knife and sliced through the melting butter. ‘I was selfish, I suppose. I do see that now.’
‘And we were in school uniform.’ Amy ran a finger along the chain round her neck. ‘So it didn’t do me any favours with Minters. “You’ve brought the school into disrepute”,’ She mocked the Scottish accent of their draconian headmistress, Miss Minton. ‘She had it in for me after that.’
‘And when she caught you smoking behind the gym.’ Kate put two fingers to her mouth and puffed.
‘God! She was so unforgiving.’
‘Can you imagine what it must be like faced with all those rebellious sixth-formers though? I suppose you have to set an example if you want to maintain any semblance of order.’ Kate took the middle path as usual.
Amy looked as if she was going to say something else but changed her mind. ‘Ghastly,’ she said before lifting her glass. ‘Cheers.’
‘Here’s to a wonderful weekend.’ Linda followed suit, appreciating the chilled wine as it ran down her throat. Just the ticket. Like the others she was avoiding the subject of Amy’s expulsion. She had her own reasons for not wanting to revisit it but, nonetheless, there it sat like the elephant in the room.
‘And thanks for having us here. It’s just …’ Kate looked around her. ‘Well, just thank you.’
Amy smiled, smug like the Cheshire Cat in Linda’s well-thumbed childhood copy of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. ‘My pleasure. I hope you’ll all have an unforgettable time.’
Linda tried to ignore a flicker of unwelcome unease. If nothing else, she was sure they would do that.
7
After lunch Kate excused herself to make a call home. If she didn’t, Alan would panic and do something daft like call in Interpol to mount a search for her. She walked up to the top of the garden where she found a rustic wooden table and a low-slung chair. Sitting there looking down the slope to the house and to the valley beyond, she was the queen of all she surveyed. Four more days weren’t going to be enough. And then again … But things were bound to get easier as they got to know each other once more.
She called up Alan’s number, taking pleasure in the sight of the photo she kept as his caller ID. Not a conventionally handsome man perhaps but his steadfastness and kindness shone from his face. Those were two of the reasons she married him, or at least had stayed married to him once the first flush had dimmed a little and the demands of a working sheep farm and young family took over.
‘Kate!’ His voice immediately took her home.
‘Of course it’s me. I promised I’d call when I got here so here I am.’
‘I thought something might have happened.’
‘You needn’t have worried. The plane didn’t crash and Jane drove like an angel. I didn’t know you cared so much.’ That was a little harsh, and she was pleased he did, even though it could be suffocating at times.
‘Of course I do.’ He sounded hurt, but recovered himself. ‘So how are the harpies?’
‘Don’t call them that.’ But he did have a point. Despite their friendship, Jane had been very chilly towards everyone. Linda wasn’t at ease and Amy was nervous. ‘It’s all a bit odd. We’re in the most stunning villa on the side of a valley though. And it’s all so green.’
‘But …?’ He knew her too well.
‘But it’s not as easy as I’d hoped. Jane’s being too aloof. And that’s making all of us uncomfortable.’ With her foot, she nudged an overturned black beetle back on to its legs and watched as it lumbered off. ‘She could be like that when we were kids. Weirdly, it’s probably what made us all want to be her friend. Such a thrill when she thawed and you were in her warmth again. But right now, it’s just unpleasant.’
‘But she’s Lara’s godmother. You’ve known her for years.’
‘Yes, but you know we don’t see each other as much as we used to and, honestly, we don’t really have that much in common now.’ She wondered why she hadn’t registered it before.
‘What about the other two?’ Alan rarely went anywhere apart from the farm and the pub in the village, so when Kate brought back news from the outside world, he lapped it up, although his interest never lasted long.
‘Linda’s a funny one. The future looked so bright for her and yet she’s never married, and now she’s facing redundancy. But she won’t talk about it.’ Perhaps she hadn’t tried hard enough to draw her out. ‘She used to be so confident. We all wanted to be like her. As for Amy, having got us all here, she’s so desperately anxious for us to have such a good time that she’s like a cat on hot bricks. I can’t help feeling that she’s waiting for something to happen
. I’m making it sound awful but I’m sure it’ll all be much better when everyone relaxes.’
‘A few drinks should do it.’ He laughed, gruff and hearty.
‘Maybe tonight.’ But she could tell he’d finished with that subject.
‘I’m glad you called, because there’s something I want to ask you.’
She hadn’t been away for a day but already she was missed. She stared up at the sky as two birds flew high above her towards the mountains on the other side of the valley. ‘What’s that?’
‘Molly and Donal want to have a party, putting up tents in the lower field. I said I’d ask you.’
Kate shut her eyes, despairing. They had discussed what they were and weren’t prepared to let their children get up to while living under their roof countless times. Did he never listen? Or was it that he did, knowing he could forget and rely on her. ‘You’re in charge, Alan. What do you think?’
‘Well, I …’ Katie knew exactly what was going through his mind. The disruption, the noise, the people, the mess. He wanted her to say no.
‘They’re twenty-two, darling.’ Just a brief reminder. ‘They ought to be able to clear up afterwards. What were you doing at that age?’
‘So you think it’s OK?’
‘I think it’s fine. Just lay down some ground rules.’ Surely he could do that on his own, or at least wait till she got back.
‘You’re so sensible. As always.’ He had no idea how dull and how irritated that made her feel. ‘And Tom and Sarah have taken pity on us and asked me and Noah over for supper.’
Katie gritted her teeth at the word ‘pity’. She had made and frozen five dinners for them both before she left. She had left a pan of soup in the fridge and a newly baked loaf of bread in the bin and two in the freezer. Their neighbours wouldn’t think Alan was so helpless if he didn’t play the part. If he was ever away for a rare night or two, they didn’t invite her unless they were having a dinner party for friends. They assumed she could cope on her own. ‘That’s nice.’ She listened to her own voice with some scorn. If anyone had encouraged Alan in this role of helpless husband it was her. By looking after her family all their lives, attending to all their needs and most of his, she had taught them to rely on her. Kit had barely been able to boil an egg when he moved away from home. Whose fault was that?
‘You did do the wages before you left?’
She sighed. ‘Yes, I did. They’re in the desk as usual. Don’t worry, everything’s done and, anyway, I’ll be back soon. There’s nothing that can’t wait.’
‘Oh, I know. I’m fussing. Sorry.’ He sounded as if he meant it. ‘Have a good time and forget about us.’
‘As if.’
When she’d ended the call, she sat for a while enjoying the solitude. She was often on her own nowadays, but this was quite different. Having absolutely nothing to do and no one waiting on her was a novelty. There were children playing in a neighbouring garden, their shouts interrupting the quiet, but no one was expecting her to wade in and separate them, find them something else to do. How could she possibly forget about her family? They might treat her like an old tea towel but they were all she had.
She had always been a family woman, unlike the other three. She had grown up in the middle of a large and messy family of five and loved her childhood enough to want to carry it on. On leaving school, she had imagined she would have a career first but she and Alan had met at university and the die was cast. He was studying agriculture and once they’d decided to get married, there was no alternative to going with him to his family farm where he worked until his father retired and passed the business to him. She had learned to help with lambing, weaning the motherless lambs, shearing, everything else that went towards maintaining the farm, from venturing out in the harshest weather to feed or even rescue animals struggling to survive to tweezering the stray white hairs from the sheep’s faces for showing. She had thrown herself into it all, imagining that the farm would then be taken over by one of their children – Noah, as it had turned out. The girls and Kit were going to make their own way. And her? Kate? What was there for her now?
She was the only one of the three women who much of the time worked outdoors. Every day she got to walk outside, come rain and shine, dogs at her heels, children once tumbling around her, appreciating the astonishing beauty of her surroundings. Her life was such a lucky contrast to the cool deskbound nature of theirs. She considered them.
Neither Amy nor Linda, for all their job satisfaction, had children. And there was something funny going on in Amy’s personal life because Kate had noticed the photo of Rob had been removed when she last went through the living room. And, for all she had gathered so far, Linda’s was currently empty. And Jane? As difficult and unpredictable as ever. Her friendliness on the flight had turned almost to indifference when they arrived at the house, as if, at the sight of Amy and then Linda, a tap had been turned off. But then, why had she come?
Unable to sit still a moment longer, Kate walked back through the garden, stopping to pick up a windfallen lemon on the way. She held it to her nose, inhaling the fresh, biting sweet smell before spotting Amy by the pool, waving at her. ‘Come and join me.’
With the delightful realisation that she had absolutely nothing else calling on her time, she went over and took another lounger. Although they were lying in the shade of parasols, the air was warm. Kate gave a deep sigh.
‘She hasn’t changed, has she?’ Amy fiddled with the controls of a small radio until a song Kate didn’t recognise, sung by a woman in a smoky contralto, played in the background.
‘Who?’
‘Jane.’
‘I don’t think any of us have really. Not underneath.’
‘Not even Linda? She was such a star at school. It’s as if the life’s been washed out of her. I wonder what happened.’
‘You’ll never get it out of her.’
‘She’s here though. Which is brilliant. I’m glad you all came.’
‘What made you ask us? After what happened, I’d have expected you never to want to see us again. But you even kept in touch with me and Linda.’
‘I didn’t steal that watch.’
‘That’s what you always said, and I believe you. But does it really matter any more? You’ve had a great life whatever happened then.’
Amy propped herself up on an elbow and stared at her. ‘I’d almost forgotten about it but I’ve had a bit of a crisis at home.’ She raised a hand to stop Kate from asking anything. ‘I don’t want to talk about that, but I was reminded and I’ve realised that having the slur on my character does still matter. My parents died without seeing my name cleared. I can at least try to straighten it out for me, if not for them.’
‘I guess.’ The quiet fury in Amy’s voice unsettled Kate. ‘But we didn’t have to come all this way for that.’ She was beginning to wish she had stayed at home. But then, as she looked around her, no she didn’t. ‘Isn’t this meant to be a relaxing weekend?’
Amy grinned. ‘It will be. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything to spoil it.’
‘That’s a relief.’ Kate returned the smile while trying to imagine what could have happened in Amy’s perfect life to make her want to dig up the past. She was dying to know more but she would ferret about a little later. Of course she remembered when Amy was expelled. She had claimed Mr Wilson, the art teacher, had offered her high marks for sex and then his expensive watch had been found in her desk. All her claims of innocence had been dismissed, and with one term left before the A levels, she had gone to the comp and screwed them up.
Let’s move off the subject.
‘How did you start Amy Green?’
Amy shifted so that she was more comfortable and began to talk as they both gazed towards the other side of the valley. ‘I was so angry about the injustice of everything when I was expelled and reckoned that if everyone believed I was
a liar and a thief, I might as well live up to their expectations. My poor old Mum and Dad. I got in with Mick Kirby’s lot …’
Kate remembered the band of punks who hung out in the Museum Gardens in York, smoking weed and taking God knows what else. They dyed their spiky mohicans the colours of the rainbow, shredded their clothes and hung around looking threatening. She and her siblings had always been told to stay well clear of them, and had. But Amy had dyed her hair yellow and pink and run with the gang for some time. Kate had once bumped into her in Browns and barely recognised her in her torn tights and short tartan skirt.
‘I hung out with them until Billy May died from that overdose. Remember him? That shocked me into seeing some sort of sense, thank God. Some of the others were getting into heroin then but I got out before it was too late. Unlike Billy.’
‘God, I’d no idea.’
‘Mmm, not the part of my life I’m proudest of. But my parents were amazing. I needed a job and no one wanted to give me one, not surprisingly. I’d given up all interest in academic success – didn’t think I was capable. So being a doctor was out of the question then. But, despite everything, Mum threw me a lifeline and I started working with her.’
‘So you got over your embarrassment?’
Amy laughed. ‘No choice! I hated it to start with but I had to do something and gradually I got more and more involved. I loved the fabrics: all those textures and patterns and colours. I used to dream of being able to design my own and spent hours in my room, painting my ideas, never thinking I’d actually get there in the end. After Dad died, Mum and I carried on working together until she couldn’t cope any more and went to live with her sister. I moved down to Bath to be near her. I lived in a bedsit, kept my head above water with every job you can think of: waitressing, chambermaiding, barwork, shop work – anything that would pay. No one knew me there so it was like starting again. I used to spend ages trawling car boot sales, charity shops and jumble sales for bits and pieces I could furnish my room with for next to nothing. It turned out I had something of an eye and my new friends began to ask me to help them. Eventually I enrolled in evening textile design classes. It was like coming home. A door was opened and I knew what it was that I wanted to do.’