by Fanny Blake
By the weekend, her time in Mallorca had already assumed a dreamlike quality. Linda could barely believe she’d been there at all. But the proof was in her continuing changed attitude. Getting up on Sunday morning, she shut the door and padded to the kitchen to go through her usual routine: feed Sasha; put kettle on; make cup of tea; make toast and marmite; return to bed with both, and the post. The weekend lie-ins were the best part of the week. Sometimes she went mad and added a boiled egg into the mix, but not that day.
Back in bed, feet warming up, Sasha purring beside her, Radio 4 on almost too quiet to hear, Linda began to open her mail: bills, an invitation to a library event – another reading and Q&A with an author in whom she had no interest whatsoever – and a couple of catalogues that she threw across the room, missing the bin. ‘You wouldn’t believe it but I used to be so good at games,’ she said.
Sasha purred.
Next was the laptop. Answering emails in bed was a luxury she was going to be enjoying more often until she was lucky on the job front. But first she went to the Guardian, to see if any librarian jobs she might be suitable for had been posted since she last looked. However half-hearted she might feel, she was at least qualified for some of them. As a beggar, she couldn’t afford to be a chooser. Nothing suitable stood out so she opened her inbox. Immediately, her eye went to an email from Amy replying to the one she had sent the day she took redundancy.
Linda!! What news. Congratulations. You won’t regret it, I’m sure. I’m going to keep my eye out for you. I’m sorry I didn’t reply immediately; I went straight back to work yesterday, trying to hold things together till we get the money from Rob. Not looking good on that front but, with Kerry, I’m feeling positive.
But I need to tell you what happened about Jack Wilson. I did go back to the gallery after I dropped you off.
Linda snapped shut the laptop. She didn’t want to read what Amy had done, she’d rather hear in person, so reached over her breakfast to her phone and called her. Could she have changed her mind about saying something despite what they’d agreed? But why? Linda hadn’t wanted any more confrontation. Naming and shaming was not how she wanted to deal with Jack. He’d been to prison, he seemed contrite. She’d seen him, she’d told him what happened. He knew. That was enough. It was over. She wanted to leave it in the past where it belonged.
Amy picked up immediately. ‘You’ve got my email, then? There must be a huge question mark hanging over his career now, I imagine.’
‘I haven’t read it all. I’d rather hear it from you.’
‘Well, OK, but don’t go mad.’
Linda braced herself, slipping down the pillow until she was almost lying flat. She listened to Amy’s account of what happened in the gallery, shocked and thrilled at the same time.
‘That was a terrible thing to do.’ Although she had sympathy for Anika, she could not help sharing Amy’s delight in her account of what she had done.
‘I know.’ Amy didn’t sound the slightest bit contrite. ‘But she should know who she’s married to.’
‘But it’s not up to you to tell her.’
‘I knew you wouldn’t like it. I didn’t go in there meaning to say anything. It just slipped out.’
‘Did you see him again, after that?’
‘God, no. I stayed up at the house for two heavenly days and came home yesterday. If I’m honest, I do feel a bit guilty but I’m back here now so I can’t do any more damage.’
Linda couldn’t help smiling. She was right. Jack deserved what he got. Maybe he would be lucky and his relationship with Anika would be strong enough to withstand having the knowledge of who he really was in the open. ‘But you didn’t say anything to anyone else?’
‘No!’ As if she would. ‘Well, I might have said something more to Dan just before I left.’
‘Amy! You said you wouldn’t.’ She was hopeless.
‘But I thought you’d like to know.’
‘Of course I would.’ But in fact she didn’t really want to know anything more about Jack or to talk about him. ‘And you? How are things?’
‘Difficult.’ There was a sigh at the end of the line. ‘But not insurmountable. I’m having a make or break meeting with Rob. He’s called wanting to talk, but I’ve put him off till next week. I’ve decided I want to divorce him as soon as I can. I’m going to see a lawyer.’
‘You’re not going to wait till the dust settles?’
‘What’s the point? I want a clean slate.’
Linda knew her breeziness was only masking Amy’s hurt. She had seen that at the villa. Even if she hadn’t, she knew for herself that you could fight the pain of rejection and lost love as hard as you liked but it took a long time to disappear. And then she realised that she hadn’t thought too long about Mike for days and her life had been all the better for that. He had done her a favour by being so decisive about their break-up. He hadn’t wavered once. From now on, she would follow suit. She would not waste any more time mulling over what might have been. By taking her redundancy, she had taken the first step into a new future of her own. Like Amy, she was going to move on.
27
Alan had sent one of the lads to collect Kate from the station because he was too busy preparing the ewes for sale. As they drove along the lane to the farm, the familiarity of the undulating moorland was balm to her spirits. She might miss the mountainous beauty of Mallorca’s Serra de Tramuntana and the company of her old friends, but this was home. There was the oak tree that the boys once always badgered her to let them climb, the gateway where Red, their terrier had escaped from the car, the drystone walls that Alan and the boys had spent hours of their lives maintaining, the field where she and Lara had once spotted a sheep in labour and had gone to help. The ewe had died, and they’d reared the lamb – Lara called it Florrie – at home. Everywhere she looked, there were landmarks from her life.
As they rounded the corner into the farmyard, Kate looked at the place she belonged through new eyes. The old grey stone farmhouse had been in Alan’s family for three generations now, the outhouses and the old barn where they kept the sheep during the hard winters. In the yard, there were bits of old farm equipment that Noah should have repaired during the summer, alongside the hay baler and one of the tractors. She got out of the Land Rover and took a deep breath of moorland air, guessing what might await her indoors.
Sure enough, the kitchen was a shambles. Some washing-up had been done, but not the burned saucepan on the counter, nor the one with something unidentifiable stuck round its sides, or the plates and mugs in the sink. The remains of lunch had been left on the table so one of the dogs had finished off the ham leaving the evidence on the mat by the Aga. Clothes were strewn over the back of chairs. The stone floor was covered in muddy footprints. However hard she tried to instil a sense of house pride, it was ignored.
From now on, things were going to be different. Instead of falling back into her old role of cook and bottlewasher, she sat at the kitchen table, unearthed a pencil and paper, cleared a space, and began to write a list of chores for Noah and Molly that would help her. As for Alan, she would do her best to make him understand.
That night, while he was showering, Kate slipped on the new pyjamas she’d splashed out on in the airport. She’d browsed the lingerie in the branch of Victoria’s Secret, dazzled by what was there. Alan would think she’d taken leave of her senses if she surprised him with something as flimsy and lacy as some of the things on display. No, this was enough. She’d bought them while Linda was in the Ladies.
She looked down at herself. Perhaps if she stretched out a bit more. The coming-home steak supper they’d had sat heavy in her stomach. If only she hadn’t had the pudding, too, but it would have been antisocial not to keep him and Noah company.
The handle of the bathroom door turned. Alan emerged in his stripy pyjamas, took one look at her, and actually blushed. ‘Wow! What
’s happened to your usual kit?’
At least he’d noticed something was different. That had to be a start. ‘I thought we could inject a bit of spice into our life.’
He sat on the edge of the bed. Not the desperate lunge that she’d imagined in her wildest fantasy. Worse, he looked puzzled. ‘You don’t need to do this, you know. You look lovely whatever you’re wearing.’
‘Do I?’
‘You know you do.’
‘How am I meant to know if you never tell me?’ A buzz of irritation went through her. But no. She must not spoil the evening. This was important.
‘Of course I have.’ He slapped her thigh and left his hand there as if she was a prize heifer. ‘Lots of times.’
‘Maybe thirty years ago.’ She couldn’t remember when he had last said anything of the kind.
‘But you know that’s what I think,’ he protested. ‘I don’t need to keep telling you. You don’t keep telling me how infinitely desirable I am either.’ He grinned and flapped up his pyjama top.
Just for a second, Dan’s bright eyes and piratical grin flashed into her mind before she hurriedly blocked him out. ‘Oh, come here,’ she said. ‘This is silly. I only wanted to give you a present to remember. Your birthday’s coming up.’
He went to his side of the bed, singing ‘When I’m Sixty-Four’. He broke off as he got under the duvet. ‘Do you still need me?’ he asked, thoughtful. ‘You’ve been a bit odd since your birthday.’
‘You’re imagining things,’ she said, climbing in to join him.
‘I know I’m a bit of an old fool, but I do love you, you know,’ he said, taking her by surprise. He lay on his back, hands behind his head. ‘I may not show it or say it enough but as far as I’m concerned nothing’s changed since we got married.’
That made her feel terrible. Terrible and stupid for dolling herself up in a way she didn’t need to. At her age and stage, that was never going to change things. And this wasn’t the moment to give him a lecture about taking her for granted. He loved her in his way. Was it selfish to want more?
‘Shall we?’ She turned to look at him, lying prone, eyes closed, mouth slightly open.
‘Mmm … I think we should.’
She knew the familiar moves that they had done nothing much to vary over the years. If it ain’t broke … Sex with him was like a boarding a train that always took the same route to arrive at the best destination. That night was no exception.
Afterwards, they were lying side by side and Kate was wondering how to suggest adding something new to their usual repertoire without hurting his feelings. In her head, she had gone through this countless times, but in reality it was not as easy as it should be.
She snuggled up to him and kissed his ear ‘Next time, do you think we …’
Before she got any further, a great rumbling snore shook the room. He was sound asleep. She pulled away, amused despite herself. Well, there was always the morning.
But when she woke up, Alan was getting dressed. Outside, dawn was just breaking. She groaned.
‘A few days off and you’ve been softened,’ he said. ‘Shall I bring you a cup of tea?’
What he was hoping was that she would then get up and make him and Noah breakfast before they set off for the sales. The ropes were all too familiar to her. ‘I’d love one.’ She rolled on to her side as if she was going back to sleep.
He came round to her side of the bed and kissed her cheek. ‘It’s good to have you back.’
‘It’s good to be back. Perhaps I will get up after all.’ She threw off the duvet and so another day began.
After a day of the normal farm chores and a run to Helmsley for some shopping, Kate was delighted when Lara turned up with Molly, having picked her up from work and given her a lift home.
‘How was it, Mum? I want to hear everything.’
‘It was great and I brought you these.’ Kate held out two charm bracelets that she’d bought with Jane in Sóller. The girls dangled them from their hands, pleasure on their faces.
‘Cool,’ said Molly, laying hers on her arm. ‘Thanks, Ma.’
‘I want to hear how it went.’ Lara was fastening hers round her wrist, then holding her arm in the air and turning it back and forth. ‘I love this. Thanks so much. But tell us … What were they like? Did you wear the earrings? Did you have a villa with a pool? Take any photos?’ All the questions that Alan and Noah had been too tired to think of the previous evening. That had been more of a supper, collapse in front of TV and doze, go to bed sort of affair.
At the kitchen table with cups of tea, the dogs at the hearth and two of the cats asleep on the pile of ironing, Kate told them about her rare holiday.
‘A motorbike, Mum?! Did you fancy him?’
‘Don’t be silly, of course not!’
But Lara’s raised eyebrows showed she’d answered that a little too quickly.
‘He was nice, but not for me. Your dad’s the one I’ve signed up with and nothing’s going to change that. And anyway all Dan wanted, apart from showing off the island, was to borrow money.’
‘What a tosser,’ said Molly.
Kate smiled. ‘Perhaps he is, in a way. He’s never married and probably never will. I wouldn’t like to live like that.’
‘I would. Imagine travelling round the world. If it’s Tuesday, it must be Bangkok.’ Molly leaned back with her eyes shut. ‘I’d love to ride an elephant.’
The other two burst out laughing. Molly’s changing ambitions always made them laugh, especially the more outlandish ones.
‘What? What have I said?’
‘Nothing,’ said Kate, putting her arm round her youngest daughter and kissing her cheek. Being here, in their untidy, dubiously clean kitchen surrounded by her family was where she belonged.
‘Being away confirmed to me how much I love it here. But …’ She tapped both hands on the table for their attention. ‘I’ve decided it’s time for one or two changes round here.’
Both girls looked at her, dismayed.
‘It’s time you contributed a bit more, Moll. I don’t mean rent, but I thought you might cook one meal a week, and keep your room tidy.’
‘What about Noah? His room’s a pigsty.’
‘Pot. Kettle,’ Lara said, dodging out of Molly’s reach. ‘Good for you, Mum.’
‘Don’t worry. I’m going to have a word with him too.’
Being taken for granted belonged in the past. If she could make one or two small changes to the domestic routine, it would be better for all of them.
‘God, Mum,’ Molly was looking disgruntled. ‘Perhaps better if you don’t go away too often if this is what you’re like when you get back.’
‘She’s right, though,’ Lara said. ‘Perhaps we do take you a bit for granted. But you’re our mum, what do you expect?’
Kate smiled. She was already thinking about her next plan. The next day she would start looking for a weekend break for her and Alan. He would object but she would insist. That way Noah would learn he was trusted with the care of the farm, and Alan might begin to let go a little.
And if he couldn’t always get away, then she had proved to herself that she could do her own thing if she wanted. And she would again one day. She had a feeling that she hadn’t seen the last of Amy and Linda. Of Jane, she was less sure.
28
David and Jane had been walking on eggshells around each other ever since they’d arrived back in Oxford.
The morning after they got home, Jane had gone straight to the hospital as early as she could to catch up with anything she had missed, while David went into the agency to get on with his own work. Within a couple of days it was as if nothing had happened, except of course everything had happened and neither of them knew how to deal with it. David’s impetuous dash to save their marriage, all the thoughts and promises they’d made in F
ornalutx belonged to another reality, one that had nothing to do with the life they lived at home.
The first night David went to sleep in front of the News, and she left him there so she could go to bed on her own. After that, back at work, they’d return in the evening in time for a scratch supper then fall into bed and straight to sleep with only the most cursory of exchanges. In bed together, despite their mutual assurances about new starts, they didn’t make love but lay side by side like two silent marble effigies.
Meanwhile Rick had been insistent: texts, missed calls and emails all saying the same thing: What happened? Naturally, he was angry that he’d flown to Barcelona and been let down. Eventually Jane caved in. She couldn’t write to him because there was too much to say. She owed it to him to give him the explanation he deserved face to face. He deserved that at least. If he understood what had happened, he would leave her alone. David need never know.
They met at his flat after work, despite her knowing this could be a mistake.
When he opened the door, he looked serious. ‘What the hell happened? I took that time off and paid a fortune for that suite …’
‘I know, I know. I’m sorry.’ She followed him into the living room, sat in one of the Swedish designer chairs and explained, all the time having to remind herself why she was there. Whatever he said, she was not to succumb to anything. He poured her a glass of champagne.
When she’d finished, he poured them another and chinked his glass against hers. ‘Come with me.’
When he went into the bedroom, she followed, despite herself. Just one last delicious time.
Two hours later she left, ashamed and angry with herself. How could she be so certain she wanted to be with David and then deceive him so thoroughly? She had no answer. She should have arranged to meet Rick on neutral territory but had been frightened of them being seen together. At least David would never know. And she was not going to see Rick again. That they had agreed.