Seven Days There

by Ruth Hay

  Contents

  Seven Days There

  About This Book

  Other Books By Ruth Hay

  Quote

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  Four.

  Five.

  Six.

  Seven.

  Eight.

  Nine.

  Ten.

  Eleven.

  Twelve.

  Thirteen.

  Seven Days There

  a There, Back & Beyond novel

  by

  Ruth Hay

  www.ruthhay.com

  SEVEN DAYS THERE

  When friends reunite after years apart, what secrets will be revealed?

  Valerie Westwood never expected to outlive her husband.

  David had been so full of life, such a commanding presence as a father and partner, that even after his cancer diagnosis, she could not imagine he would fail to beat this challenge, as he had all others.

  His final years had been much harder on her than she could believe.

  Now she was alone with decisions to make. Their grown sons had families and lives of their own.

  It was time for Valerie to start again but, first, she needed the consolation and comfort of her old friends.

  She would find a way to bring the women together in a place so special that it would unlock the past and give all of them a glimpse of a new future.

  Book One in the new There, Back & Beyond series from Ruth Hay! Books Two and Three now available!

  Ruth Hay writes women’s fiction

  for discerning readers.

  Discover her Prime Time and Seafarer books today!

  Prime Time Series

  Auld Acquaintance

  Time Out of Mind

  Now or Never

  Sand in the Wind

  With This Ring

  The Seas Between Us

  Seafarer Series

  Sea Changes

  Sea Tides

  It is better to ask some of the questions than to know all the answers.

  James Thurber.

  One.

  Zoe Morton arrived early at her office, primed and ready for the day.

  She relished the quiet of the building and the sense of pride she always felt at what she had accomplished there. It had been a long, hard climb to Chief Executive Officer and she took not one step of it for granted. Best of all, she knew she had made it on her own. There was no powerful husband behind her, although there had been a few useful male friendships along the way to boost her position.

  Her seat in the boardroom of Excelsior Pharmaceuticals had been secured through her ability to innovate, recognize talent, budget appropriately and keep a good team around her. When others fell by the wayside, Zoe Morton forged on, distinguished by her classic clothing style, always in black and white, her no nonsense meetings, and her exemplary work ethic.

  Suzanne met her with a smile and a china cup of Arabica coffee brewed specially for her each morning.

  “Good morning, Miss Morton, the mail is on your desk. Three invitations to speak at conferences and one personal letter, unopened of course. I have vetted the overnight emails and left the relevant ones on your laptop. The day’s schedule has one change of time for your meeting with Research and Development and a quick meeting at noon about a new request for anti-malarial vaccine funding.”

  “Thank you, Suzanne. Give me fifteen minutes to enjoy my coffee and finish the company announcements then we’ll tackle the rest of the day.”

  “Certainly, Miss Morton.”

  Suzanne softly closed the door to the executive suite. She knew well her boss’ likes and dislikes. These few minutes at the start of her day were sacrosanct and also gave her secretary a chance to take the temperature of the day from their brief exchange.

  Brand new suit in a subdued check with a favourite white blouse peeking out. That bodes well.

  A little tiredness around the eyes, but it’s a very hectic time of year.

  Not too much mail today, so a clear start. Just that one unusual letter. I hope I was right to include it. Working on pure instinct there. Should be a good day and perhaps I can get her out a little earlier. The weather report promises a fine afternoon.

  Zoe sipped her coffee and flipped through the emails quickly. She picked up the stiff cards, easily identified by their stamped logos, and rejected two of the invitations. She had already decided to attend the medical conference in the Midlands, as keynote speaker.

  The personal letter was unusual. Nothing on the envelope conveyed the source. Normally, Suzanne would deal with anything like this. She knew her boss had no time for begging letters or time-wasters of that kind.

  The address was hand-written. Who did that these days?

  She turned the envelope over and immediately saw the letters printed on the flap.

  S.W.A.L.K. Sealed With A Loving Kiss.

  Her eyes teared up and her breath stopped for a moment. Only one person had ever used this style of address on her letters and that person, her mother, was dead.

  She was thrown back years to the day of the funeral; undoubtedly one of the worst days of her life.

  As if to match her mood of abject despair, the rain had poured down and even the parson had rushed to get the graveside service over. By the end, only Zoe and her mother’s best friends were left, arm in arm for support. If Valerie and Sandra had not held tight to her, she knew she would have sunk to her knees in the mud and perhaps never risen again.

  Shaken to the core, Zoe turned away from her desk and looked out at the sky view while she breathed deeply and tried to stop her hands from trembling. Who had done this to her? Who had known about her mother’s private sign?

  There was no way to avoid it. She ripped open the envelope and began to read.

  My dear Zoe,

  I know it has been too long since we have been in touch but, as you probably heard, things have been difficult here.

  I have been thinking about you and Grace lately and I want you to seriously consider what I am about to ask.

  I have rented a spacious apartment in Ambleside for one week next month and I am inviting your mother’s best friends to join me there.

  It is high time to renew our bonds with each other. Life is short and the water rises, as I know to be true.

  I can promise a beautiful location, good food and lots of interesting places to see in the area. Good conversation is guaranteed.

  Please don’t say you are too busy. For your own sake, and in your mother’s memory, I beg you to join us.

  It’s only a few days out of your life, but I know they will be significant.

  Aunt Valerie.

  Her first impulse was to throw the letter away. How dare she?

  Valerie Westwood was not a real aunt. It was an honorary title bestowed by her mother on the close group of friends. How rude of her to presume a CEO could just drop everything and rush off to the Lake District on a whim. It had been two years since she had taken more than a weekend off. If she were to take a vacation it would not be with an old pal of her mother’s generation. What benefit would there be in that?

  The anger that now swept through her, banished the shakes. She was Zoe Morton. She was not at the beck and call of just anyone, even someone who had been important to her mother. No chance of that.

  Yes, she had seen the obituary some months ago when David Westwood had died. Suzanne had copied it for her from the newspaper since she was responsible for collating any references to her boss’ name or company. Her mother’s name had been included in the obituary as ‘Grace Morton, late, much-beloved friend of Valerie and David Westwood’.

  Zoe had felt a moment’s sadness at Valerie’s loss but the death of her husband, David, had occurred
far away in Canada. She had dismissed the event and moved on to more pressing matters.

  Now this letter had awakened feelings she had tried to suppress; memories too painful to contemplate.

  Suzanne’s gentle tap at the door interrupted this disturbing train of thought.

  Zoe stood up and resumed her normal posture, adopting her business persona again as if she were pulling on a magical garment that protected her from external onslaughts.

  There was work to do.

  Two.

  “Did you get a letter from Valerie?”

  “Yes, just today. I assume we both did.”

  “Right. What do you make of it?”

  “Well, there’s not much to go on. Just the location and a date.”

  “Are you thinking of going?”

  “A free holiday in the Lake District! Are you kidding? Of course I would love it, but how, that’s the question? I have work and Carla’s living here since her separation and I already booked my week off for September.”

  “I know what you mean, Corinne, and yet it would be a great chance to see Valerie over here. She’s been pretty much silent since before Dave died. I feel badly that I didn’t make it to the funeral, or since then, for that matter.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up, Sandra. We both have commitments. Are you still babysitting your grandkids?”

  “A couple of days a week now. I could get a substitute if I needed to.

  We used to be such close friends when Grace was alive. I think it’s a shame we have let that drop.”

  “Time marches on, Sandra! Things change. You should go if you want to, of course.”

  “Will you think about it, Corinne? It’s only a few days and it’s a really nice offer from Val.”

  “I’ll think about it, but I doubt it’s possible.”

  “Talk soon, then?”

  “OK. Bye.”

  Corinne Carstairs put down the phone with a sigh. It had been a while since she and Sandra had talked. These days they had nothing much in common.

  As far as she was concerned, Sandra Halder was one of the lucky ones. After her three daughters arrived in quick succession, she had enjoyed the privilege of being a stay-at-home mum.

  Her hubby Ian worked long hours as a city planner to support his family and Sandra had the leisure to spend her days around regular TV programs and neighbourhood coffee mornings.

  To make it all easier, her girls had married young and produced grandchildren. Even after the house was empty, she had never taken up the teaching career she had trained for when she and Valerie met in Teachers College in Glasgow long ago.

  Jealous? Sure she was.

  Medical nurse and intake receptionist at the biggest hospital for miles around was a job that ranged from deadly boring to absolute chaos when things went wrong. A raging city fire or a multiple accident meant everyone on staff did double duty until the emergency was over. There were days when Corinne Carstairs wanted to throw her identification name tag in the rubbish bin and run screaming from the building; when smiling reassuringly at one more lost patient and giving instructions that a moron could read for himself, was too much to bear.

  Lately the pressure had become almost epic. Arthur insisted she was menopausal and it was obvious he was avoiding her at night with the excuse that she tossed and turned so much he could not get a wink of sleep. He spent most nights in the spare bedroom, still decorated with Colin’s trophies and soccer memorabilia.

  Having Carla moping around at home didn’t help things. She seemed traumatized about her marriage breakdown and incapable of washing a dish or making a cup of tea for her mother. Arthur was sympathetic to her for some reason. Of course, he had no clue what had caused the split. Corinne, on the other hand, had heard all about it in endless phone calls reaching well into the nights when Carla first decided marriage was not what she had bargained for.

  Really? Who knew what they were in for after the procession down the aisle? There were no guarantees.

  There was no peace at home, or at work.

  A week away in the comparative freedom of the Lake District sounded like paradise. Valerie had always been a motherly kind of older woman, taking her cue from Grace who was almost saintly in her compassion. The one thing Corinne longed for right at the moment was a soft motherly bosom to enfold her, a warm hand to pat her back and a soothing voice to tell her all would be well.

  Darn! Just thinking about it had made her cry. That was a sure sign she was going loopy.

  She glanced at her watch and saw she would have to move fast to get to the hospital in time for her shift.

  If things were quiet for a change, she could possibly work on a fantasy plan to escape to Ambleside.

  Sandra Halder found herself thinking about Grace Morton. It was not for the first time, of course.

  In a strange way, it was like Grace was as much a presence now she was gone, as she had been in life.

  It was Valerie who was Sandra’s oldest friend and Valerie who had brought Grace into their lives.

  Grace was the type of person anyone would be lucky to meet once in a lifetime. She was totally special. Unforgettable. Yet she was the kind of woman you might walk past without ever knowing what you would have missed. Her appearance was not remarkable at all. She was of average height and a bit above average weight. Sandra took some comfort from that fact, as she was still in the process of ‘losing that baby weight’ years after the last ‘baby’ had left the nest.

  Grace’s real quality was internal, not external. She had a beautiful soul. It was that simple. She radiated genuine goodness. Sandra had never heard Grace say a bad word about anyone and she was always ready to help out whenever she was needed.

  She had appeared at Sandra’s door that morning when Joanne was a new arrival and both Sharon and Rachel had streaming colds. It was one of those moments when you had no clue how to cope and strength was running out. Grace took in the situation with a glance, put the little girls into a steaming bath with bubbles and toys and waved Sandra off to nap with the baby.

  When she emerged from the bedroom, refreshed and rested, the girls were clean, fed, and no longer crying. They were cuddling on the sofa, with thumbs in mouths, while Grace read them a story. It was a kind of miracle and Sandra never forgot that timely rescue, or the rescuer.

  Valerie and Sandra had attended Grace’s funeral. They were both appalled at the suddenness of Grace’s death but the sight of a young Zoe almost prostrate had shocked them even more. They had felt so sorry for Zoe and tried to bring her into their circle. It had worked for a while but Zoe was so much younger than them and soon it was clear how different from her mother she seemed to be.

  Zoe moved on and then there were three: Val, Sandra and Corinne.

  When Val and Dave moved to Canada, the circle was finally broken.

  And now, Valerie was sending out a call to mend that break. Sandra searched her heart and knew there had been something important missing in her life. The company of old and dear friends was a special part of life that was lost in the hassles of family concerns. Yes, it was there somewhere in the background but immediate priorities of daily living took over and time went by so quickly.

  Once, she and Val had been so close. The very day they discovered they were room-mates in the Teachers College residence, they had bonded together as strangers in the big city. Their motto was ‘together against all comers’.

  Sandra felt out of her depth in the college classes and terrified in school situations. Without Valerie’s support she would never have made it through the three years of their training. When they graduated together, she believed they were sisters forever. Now she knew how rare that feeling was.

  Could it be time to make a space in her daily routines to renew old friendships?

  The television was flickering in the background. Sandra’s favourite show was on; reruns of Oprah’s old daily series.

  Suddenly she knew what to do. Oprah always said, live your best life and take hold of chances to
improve. She would write to Valerie today, before she could change her mind.

  Three.

  Valerie Westwood checked the phone again and looked in her mailbox although the day’s delivery had arrived three hours before. Even taking the distance from the United Kingdom into account, surely she could have expected some replies by now?

  What if no one accepted her invitation? She felt as if that would seriously diminish her husband’s generosity and leave a gap in her plans that she had no idea how she would fill.

  Two days before he died, David had asked for the morphine drip to be disconnected and despite considerable pain, he claimed back his clarity of mind for a brief time so he could tell his wife what he wanted. Valerie would never forget those precious final moments as they sat face to face and hand in hand for the last time.

  “Val, I have taken you to hell and back and I never said thank you as I should have.”

  She shook her head and would have protested but he cleared his throat and gripped her hand to stop her words.

  “You gave me all your love and devotion and shielded the boys from the worst of what was happening. It will soon be over for us. I am glad to go, my dear girl. It is enough.”

  Tears fell on his hand from her bowed face. She did not have the heart to deny anything he was saying.

  He signalled for a sip of water and continued. His voice was weaker now.

  “You must find happiness in any way you can, my darling. Move on. The boys and their families are looked after in my will. I want you to use all the money that’s left for yourself. Go where you want. Think of yourself for a change. I loved you when we first met. I love you more now, and always.”