by Fanny Blake
‘Give me a chance.’ He held his glass in both hands, looking at them over its rim. ‘It wasn’t easy making the decision to come up here. But, Linny, you persuaded me.’ He cast an uncertain smile in her direction.
She didn’t respond. The gin slipped down her throat as her confidence returned.
‘Sorry, but I think I must be missing something. Are you asking us for our sympathy?’ Amy gave a disbelieving laugh.
Jack looked uncomfortable. What sort of reception could he have imagined? ‘No. I, er … well, I want to apologise.’
‘Sit tight, Linda. He’s had a long time to practise this, so it should be good. Fire away. We’re listening.’
At the other end of the garden, she saw Dan sit up and look in their direction. After a minute or two he lay back down but remained facing their way so that he could see if he was needed.
‘I’m sorry.’ Jack kept looking from Amy to Linda and back, shifting in his seat under their gaze. ‘I am.’ He leaned his elbows on the table and clasped his hands, nudging his chin with them, waiting for their forgiveness.
‘That’s it?’ said Amy. ‘After all this time, you think that’s enough? What you did to me was unforgivable, although I built the fallout into something that was more significant than perhaps it deserved. But what you did to Linda was worse. For that, all she gets is sorry? Do you really think that’s good enough?’
‘I’m all right. Really. We’ve spoken.’ Linda hurried the conversation on.
His hands fell to the table so the glasses jumped. Linda steadied hers then stared at him, trying to see the young man she had known but there was nothing of him there. His eyes were expressionless. There was nothing of the sorrow he was professing there. She looked away, disappointed.
‘Can I try to explain?’
‘This should be interesting. Please.’
Amy’s animosity was wearing thin. Linda wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible, realising that Jack must have come with an ulterior motive. She didn’t believe he was here just to humiliate himself. Couldn’t Amy see that?
‘Look …’ he began, reasonable in his appeal. ‘I was a young man, and I was extremely pleased with myself, I’ll admit that. I’d landed a breeze of a teaching job that allowed me to carry on with my own painting. I was a novelty in St Catherine’s, and I enjoyed the status and the sort of celebrity that came with it. I was flattered, didn’t think, and took advantage of my position.’ He took a sip of his drink.
‘I’d say,’ said Amy under her breath. ‘Go on.’
Twisting his fingers together, he went on. ‘OK. I abused the responsibility that, at the time, I didn’t take seriously. But I was only twenty-five. Gimme a break. I was only human and did what any other twenty-five-year-old would have done. You were the only one who wouldn’t play. Of course, if I could go back and behave differently, I would.’
‘How many were there?’ Linda asked, dismayed by his admission.
‘Don’t misunderstand me.’ He held up his hand. ‘Only one or two. I forget now. And nothing terrible happened, just a bit of harmless flirting.’
‘It was anything but that.’
Linda could tell Amy’s control was close to breaking, so she stepped in. ‘We know what happened to you, about your prison sentence.’
That surprised and alarmed him. ‘How? You never said.’
‘Google made that easy,’ Amy snapped.
‘I loved her. Or thought I did.’ His face reddened.
‘That’s what you said to me.’ Linda couldn’t help returning to that long hot happy summer when she had felt the same way, when he had told her he loved her, teaching her all sorts of things she had never been taught in in any classroom.
His eyes fixed on his hat, working his hand round its brim. ‘During my time in jail, I was made to think about what I’d done – not just what put me there but of the others, including you, who came before. I was banned from the classroom for life.’
‘I should hope so.’
‘It couldn’t happen again.’ At last he hung his head. ‘But I wanted you to know that I didn’t just make life difficult for you, I ruined my own. A jail sentence has plenty of side effects. My parents disowned me. My friends moved on. Luckily for me I met Anika.’ At that point he looked up again, his eyes brighter. ‘She’s Dutch and was running a chocolate shop in Béziers where I—’
He was interrupted by a snort from Amy who looked as if she was about to explode. ‘We don’t need your life history, fascinating as your relationship with Anika may be. Honestly? I’ve heard enough. I think you should go.’
‘She was the one who put me back on track. I’d paid the price for what I’d done. I moved to France and started painting again, thanks to her. We got married. I even teach privately now. Adults,’ he added swiftly.
‘She sounds a saint but that’s not why you’re here,’ said Amy. ‘Linda and I need to talk. We know where to find you. Thanks for coming up to see us.’ She took his glass and returned it to the tray, making it quite clear the time had come for him to leave.
He didn’t get up immediately but sat twisting his hat around on his lap.
‘Anika mustn’t know any of this,’ he said as he got up. ‘I don’t know what she’d think if she knew and I don’t want to risk her finding out. Can we keep it between ourselves?’
‘So that’s why you’re here.’ Amy looked incredulous. ‘Doesn’t that rather devalue your apology?’
‘Not at all.’ His hands fumbled on the back of his chair. ‘I meant everything I said.’
‘I think you should go before one of us says something we might regret.’ The sun glanced off her glass as she turned it on the table.
After he’d left, Amy sat back in her chair. ‘Wow! I can’t believe that just happened. You okay?’
‘I think so. You?’ In fact Linda was feeling quite braced by the whole experience. Whatever she had thought her life had been until now had been tossed in the air and landed having taken on a quite different shape. ‘But didn’t you want an apology? I thought you would.’ She slapped a mosquito that had landed on her arm. A tiny bead of perspiration ran down her face.
‘That was never going to be a proper apology. That wasn’t about you and me. That was about him. Self-justification and his need to be exonerated by us. He’d like us to say it didn’t matter, that we’re okay now. He’ll go to sleep tonight, his conscience clear. He’s apologised so that’s enough. And Mrs Chocolate will hug him and tell him he’s done the right thing – if he tells her any of it.’
Linda couldn’t help laughing. ‘I don’t remember you being so harsh.’
Amy tipped her head so her face was in the sun. ‘Do you believe him?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘I mean about the wife. Do you think she even exists? I don’t trust him at all.’
‘Surely he wouldn’t lie about that.’
‘Who knows?’ She stretched her arms behind her head. ‘What a day.’
‘Has something else happened? You don’t have to tell me, of course.’ But she would be disappointed if she didn’t.
‘No, I’d like to talk about it. I’ve already told Jane and I felt better for it. Turns out getting things into the open can be a good thing. In a nutshell, Rob’s been stealing from the company and he’s leaving me. There.’ She leaned over the table, cradling her head in her arms.
Linda didn’t know what to do. Kate would have immediately hugged Amy, but she wasn’t comfortable presuming an intimacy she wasn’t sure they had. She looked to Dan for help, but he must have gone into his room when he saw he wasn’t needed. As she dithered, Amy recovered herself.
‘I’m sorry. This isn’t going to help anything.’
‘But what happened?’ Linda passed her one of the paper napkins on the tray.
‘Long story.’ Amy blew her nose but then beg
an to talk.
As Linda listened, she felt as if she had returned to the role of close friend at last. Amy wanted the ear of someone who would listen for as long as it took, who would say nothing and not judge. After today, they would both be bound by one another’s secrets. If Amy didn’t tell, neither would she, so she listened gripped, horrified, sympathetic, appalled.
‘So,’ Amy drew to a close. ‘You see nothing’s perfect in paradise after all.’
‘What next? You’re not going to let him get away with it, are you?’
‘The money or running off with my so-called friend?’ Looking thoughtful, Amy picked an olive from the dish, tossed it in the air and waited, mouth tipped up and open, till it dropped straight in. ‘I’m not sure there’s much I can do about him going off with Morag. The more I get used to the idea, the less I’m surprised by it. We haven’t loved each other enough over the years. Funny – without children, I thought we would. Don’t they get in the way of love, sometimes? As for the money: he’s said he’ll pay it back but he hasn’t yet. I don’t want to involve the police but we’ll have to soon.’ Her eyes filled with tears but she kept them under control.
‘I don’t know what to say.’
‘There isn’t anything to say. But you’ve got to admit, as far as I’m concerned, this rather puts our “Mr Wilson”’ – she loaded the name with disdain – ‘into the shade. At least as far as I’m concerned it does. Although you must feel very different.’
Linda thought about it for a minute. She stretched out her arms, twisting her wrists as if handcuffs had just been removed. ‘I’m not sure I do. When I realised it was him, that was a shock. But I’m over that now. We’re the same in that what happened then is something that’s coloured my life and that I’ve built up into something that it doesn’t deserve to be any more.’
‘But losing a child …’
‘It wasn’t like that. Not really. I had to face facts and was making my own life possible. The truth is that I never met anyone I wanted to have children with. By the time I hit the menopause, everyone I knew had kids and the fact that I came so close to having one once really hit home. I could have been a mum. That’s when I started thinking about Jack again.’ There was a deep buzz and she dodged sideways as a hornet flew past her en route to the eaves of the house. ‘But actually seeing him has made me realise that I’ve let it rule me more than I should. Not that the whole thing hasn’t been enormously significant in shaping me but … well, all sorts of things do that. Life throws you those curve balls and you’ve got to find a way to get on nonetheless.’
Amy laughed. ‘You wise old woman. Well, this weekend has been full of curve balls. What will you do when you get back?’
‘Go back to the library and make a decision. Being dead wood doesn’t make me feel great so perhaps I should take the money.’ Although she didn’t feel particularly confident about that choice. Then what?
‘I’m sure you’d find something new’
‘At my age? People aren’t crying out for librarians in their sixties.’
‘Do something different?’
‘Like what?’
‘Come and work for me. You must be pretty organised.’
They both looked at one another, equally astonished by the suggestion.
‘As what? You’re hardly going to be hiring people just at the moment.’ The thought of working in a completely new area was as dizzying as it was unlikely.
‘Except that we’ve just lost two directors at a stroke. There may be something. I don’t know what just yet.’
‘But I couldn’t do fill either of those roles.’ Linda grinned. The idea of herself going out and promoting Amy’s brand was funny. Working alone at a desk was what she did best. ‘But I appreciate the thought.’
‘I’ll think on it and let you know.’
‘Hallooo!’ Kate’s voice carried through from the living room. ‘Anyone here?’
‘It’s the cavalry – too late. We’re out here,’ Amy called before smiling at Linda. ‘I don’t think they need to know everything, do you?’
‘It’s all safe with me. They’re your secrets to tell, not mine.’ Although a little of Linda longed to let the others know how close the two of them had grown in such a short time and what it was that had brought them together.
Jane and Kate burst through the door carrying shopping.
‘We ended up in Sóller again. Delicious tapas lunch. And we saw the Picasso and Miró ceramics in the station. Loved them.’ Kate was beaming.
‘And let’s not forget I almost totalled the car.’ Jane pulled out a chair and sat down.
‘You didn’t?!’
‘On the way back. Those mountain roads are a nightmare.’ She caught Kate’s eye. ‘Oh, OK. I forgot just for a second and drove on the wrong side of the road. Just for the shortest of distances but this maniac …’
‘Came round the corner exactly where he should have been,’ added Kate. ‘And by some God-given miracle, we survived because there was no one else on the road. So we went back into Sóller for a bit of retail therapy.’ She brandished a bag. ‘Souvenirs for the family.’
‘And something for me.’ Jane unravelled a deep blue scarf patterned with silver stars.
‘Anything happened while we’ve been away?’ Kate nodded towards the empty glasses. ‘Bit early for the hard stuff, isn’t it?’
Linda and Amy exchanged glances.
‘Nothing much. We had a visit from Jack Walsh. You’ve just missed him.’
‘You’re kidding!’ Jane sat down.
‘What did he want?’ Kate followed suit.
‘To apologise,’ said Amy. ‘To say that prison changed him. To be forgiven.’
‘And did you?’
‘Forgive him? No. If I need to forgive anyone, it’s you.’
Jane looked alarmed. ‘I thought we’d talked about this, resolved it.’
‘We had. But seeing him has brought it all back in even clearer detail. All those times when you chopped and changed between us so none of us ever knew when we were or weren’t in favour.’
‘It wasn’t like that. We were all friends.’ Jane was almost pleading.
‘Were we?’ Amy looked at the others for their agreement.
‘Steady on,’ Kate interrupted. ‘I think this has gone too far now. Perhaps this isn’t the best moment to have this conversation.’
‘Perhaps it is the best moment. I hoped to find out what happened, and now I know. I’m not talking about the watch, that’s one thing. But if you hadn’t prevented the truth about him getting out, other lives might not have been harmed.’
Linda froze. Surely Amy wouldn’t break her promise to her so soon.
‘You’re not suggesting I’m to blame for his abducting that girl? That had nothing to do with me. That was ten years later.’
‘Not just that.’
Linda found Amy’s foot with hers and pressed hard.
‘This is ridiculous.’ Jane’s entire demeanour had changed. ‘When I left we’d discussed what happened and I’d apologised. What’s happened?’
‘I’ve just realised how responsible you were. Don’t you see? If anyone had listened to me, everything else might have been avoided.’
‘I’ve had enough of this.’ Jane slammed her fist on the table. ‘I didn’t want to come here in the first place. I was only doing Kate a favour.’
‘What?’ Kate was astonished. ‘That’s not true. You came because it gave you an excuse to go to Barcelona and …’ She stopped as Jane turned on her.
‘I’m not going to listen to any more. I’m going to pack and find somewhere else to stay.’
‘You do that.’ Amy was incandescent.
Linda couldn’t move, transfixed and terrified by the argument.
‘Amy, don’t do this.’ Kate put a hand on Amy’s arm in an attempt to ca
lm her down only to have it thrown off.
‘I’m not doing anything except pointing out what should have been pointed out a long time ago. Lives were changed because of what you did, and it’s important you should be taken to task for that.’
‘Which lives are you talking about? Yours? I’ll say it again, you’d never have made it through medical school.’
Suddenly Linda came to life, unable to tolerate such an unjustified attack on Amy. She may not have backed her when they were seventeen but she could at least do that now. ‘She’s talking about me.’
‘Don’t, Linda. You don’t have to say anything.’ Amy held up her hand.
‘What are the two of you talking about?’
‘I fell pregnant, and he was the father …’
Jane paled. ‘That’s not true.’
‘There you go again,’ said Amy. ‘Sometimes you should believe what you hear. Not all of us are like Elaine.’
Or you, Jane. But Linda kept her thought to herself.
At the mention of her son’s girlfriend, Jane got up from the table. ‘That’s enough. I didn’t tell you about that so you could tell everyone.’
‘But we’re old, old friends,’ said Kate. ‘We should be able to talk to each other without worrying that one of us will break confidences. What happened, Linda?’
Linda could tell her concern was genuine. ‘A miscarriage.’ Easier not to tell the full story. That was enough.
‘You poor thing, I’d no idea.’ Kate leaned across and hugged her.
‘I didn’t want anyone from home to know. That’s why I stayed out of touch for a long while. It took me all that time before I could face anyone. And then you wrote to me. By then I didn’t need to say anything.’
Jane got up from the table. ‘You were lucky.’
The other three gaped at her.
‘You can’t mean that.’ Amy looked horrified.
‘I meant she was lucky not to have had the child. Imagine. At seventeen or eighteen with university ahead of you. But I’m sorry that it happened. What was it? A one-night stand or something?’
‘Jane! You’re impossible.’