The Long Way Home

by Fanny Blake

  ‘Your only granddaughter,’ she pointed out as she wriggled free.

  ‘And all the better for that.’ He released her and turned to Isla, putting his hands on her shoulders and kissing each cheek.

  ‘I did say don’t come.’ But his ease was a welcome alternative to the others’ tension. ‘Sorry. It’s nice to see you again.’

  ‘Ah well, things change.’ He winked at Charlie. ‘And I did say I wouldn’t miss Aggie’s eighty-fifth. Of course I’m here.’

  ‘Anyone for a drink?’ Andrew shambled out of the living room. ‘Sun’s definitely over the yardarm.’

  ‘I’ll take a G ’n’ T into the kitchen to help Lorna,’ said Isla, who could see her sister was heading in that direction.

  ‘No sooner said than done. I’ll bring it to you. Ian? Charlie?’

  The two women were left alone in the kitchen. Lorna had three cookery books out on the counter with all the ingredients for each recipe on plates or in pots arranged around each one. ‘Could you?’ she asked, pointing out the dessert. ‘It’s only a question of grating a bit of chocolate and whipping some cream while I mix all this together for the fish curry.’

  ‘Fancy,’ said Isla, pulling out a bar stool and getting to grips with the recipe.

  ‘I try.’ Lorna smiled at her as Andrew came in with their drinks. As he put Isla’s down he tripped, spilling the drink over the cookery book.

  ‘For Christ’s sake, Andrew!’ Lorna’s mood changed. ‘Can’t you do anything right?’

  ‘Jesus, woman! It’s only a book. I can make another drink.’ He shuffled towards the door.

  ‘That’s about all you can do,’ she muttered under her breath, but the way he hunched his shoulders as if he’d been hit showed he had heard.

  ‘What the hell’s going on? He didn’t deserve that.’

  Lorna’s knife clattered against a bowl. ‘He did! He deserves it all. His drinking’s gone from bad to impossible since he took early “enforced” retirement. He’s impossible. I can’t even bear being in the same room with him anymore.’

  Isla had never heard Lorna say a bad word about Andrew before, however provoked. ‘Can’t you do something about it?’ The possibilities ran through her head. AA. Counselling. Rehab.

  ‘Why do you think I’ve been trying to get Morag and Aggie to agree to sell the land?’ Her face was white.

  ‘I’ve no idea. What do you mean?’ To Isla’s concern, Lorna brushed away a tear. Crying was not something she did.

  ‘I didn’t want anyone to know. I need the money so that I can leave him.’

  ‘You’re leaving Andrew?!’ Isla was astonished. This was a bold or desperate step.

  ‘As soon as I can afford to.’ A look of desperation crossed her face.

  ‘But you’re entitled to half his money. Surely you don’t need more.’

  ‘Yes I do.’ She almost screamed the words in the frustration of not being understood. ‘He may seem the most convivial man in the world, but he’s tight as hell. I have everything I want but I have to account for every penny. If he knew I was planning anything, he’d make it impossible. I’ve got to have my own funds, just to get going.’

  ‘Jesus, Lorna. Why didn’t you say? I’d have lent you the money.’ Except now she’d invested it with Don and Tony.

  ‘Because I feel a failure. I didn’t want the two of you lording it over me.’

  ‘A failure? Look at me – the woman with more failed relationships under my belt than hot dinners. And an ex-husband. I can’t talk. If you’d said something, we wouldn’t have fallen out. We could have tried to work something out together.’

  ‘We’d probably have fallen out about something else.’

  ‘Maybe.’ There was a grain of truth in that. ‘But now you’ve told me, what are we going to do?’

  ‘I need you to persuade Aggie.’

  ‘I can’t. Morag will kill me. Besides, even though I’ve no interest in the place anymore, I think it’s the wrong thing to do.’

  ‘I can’t stand living like this any longer. Please. I’m begging you.’ Lorna’s eyes met Isla’s. First one then another tear rolled down her cheek. ‘You must understand. You’re divorced and it was the right decision for you. Wasn’t it?’

  Isla had never seen her sister like this. Normally Lorna was completely in control.

  ‘This is a bit different. Ian was having affairs, and we were younger. At the beginning it was hard but for Helen’s sake, I had to make it work. And he left me, remember?’ That said, she couldn’t imagine her life without him in it somewhere. ‘But it’s worked out in the end.’

  Lorna leaned forward so her elbows were on the work surface, her head on her hands. ‘I’m scared.’ She looked around at the house. ‘Where will I end up? My life’s going to change out of all recognition.’

  ‘But not necessarily for the worse. Look at me. I love living on my own.’ Except she did feel lonely sometimes, she did miss the companionship and touch of someone else. She wasn’t like Janet who had become entirely self-sufficient, and that’s why she had let Tony in.

  ‘I don’t want all my friends talking about us and speculating.’

  ‘They’re probably doing that anyway if today’s anything to go by. You’re both obviously unhappy.’

  ‘Think about Mum and Dad. They weren’t really happy in the end. I wonder if they ever had been. But they stuck together – till death did them part.’

  ‘But look what it did. She became so angry. Times have changed, and people are more understanding, less judgemental now.’

  ‘You still have to be able to support yourself. If only I’d had a career instead of being a housewife.’ She sighed. ‘Although I’ve been good at that.’

  ‘Need a hand?’ Ian stuck his head round the door.

  ‘We’re talking about marriage.’ Isla thought that might be enough to drive him away. That and the desperation on Lorna’s face.

  ‘Ah. I’m something of an expert at that.’ He came in, brandishing his drink.

  ‘But not necessarily in the best way,’ she said. ‘I’m not sure we need your advice.’

  ‘We were talking about Mum and Dad’s,’ said Lorna, presumably nervous Isla would give something away.

  ‘Ah. A Paris romance has much to answer for.’ Another theatrical gesture with an arm flung out to the side.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Isla was puzzled.

  ‘That’s where they met, isn’t it?’

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘I’m sure that’s what she once told me.’

  ‘That’s what Janet said. But you never said anything to me.’

  ‘You and I were barely speaking then, and we rarely saw each other. Besides she asked me not to.’

  ‘Why? What else did she say?’ Isla’s hunger for information made her push Lorna’s problem to one side. Why hadn’t she thought of asking Ian? Although May had liked him, Isla hadn’t imagined them exchanging confidences.

  ‘Nothing much. Why? Is it important?’

  ‘It might be. You know I’m trying to find out more about her.’

  ‘As far as I can remember, David gave her a look and she clammed up straight away. I remember feeling there was something more she wanted to say but when I asked her again, she just said she’d been a nanny and had met David while she was there. “Nothing more interesting than that,” she said.’

  ‘Did she tell you when they got married?’ Isla sensed she was inching towards something.

  ‘She did indeed. She was sure her parents wouldn’t approve so they tied the knot in Gretna on their way back home. Dead romantic, no?’

  ‘Can’t imagine it, but yes, I suppose so.’ Although the notion of her parents being young and in love didn’t tally with the resigned and often loveless couple she had known. But it was another piece in the jigsaw.

  ‘Why did she tell you and not us?’ Lorna was looking interested.

  ‘I must have been up doing a show. God knows what it was.’ He looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘B
ut it’s the old charm offensive. Always works.’

  Isla raised her eyebrows to show what she thought of that. But why would May have asked him not to mention that she and David met in Paris? Why did where they met matter so much? And why had they told their children that they met in Edinburgh? Both versions couldn’t be true.

  ‘Aggie must know the whole story,’ he added. ‘If you’re so keen to know, why don’t you ask her?’

  ‘That’s just what I’m going to do.’

  32

  Paris, 1955

  May had imagined that David would make a decision about his future far sooner than he did. Instead the three of them forged their own routine that seemed to satisfy each of their needs. When May arrived in the morning, having dropped Emile at school, David handed Eloise over and dashed off to work. Somehow he had persuaded his compassionate employers to retain him part-time, perhaps because they both knew it wouldn’t be forever. Madame had taken to picking up Emile from school, so May was able to stay on until a little later.

  Airmail letters arrived regularly from Wendy, written in a hard-to-read scrawl on tissue-thin airmail paper. She was busy getting to know her new family and arranging her wedding.

  We’re marrying in the sweetest wooden church and the reception will be at his parents’ place. I so wish you could see my dress – his mother’s sewn it up for me. If only you could be here …

  She never mentioned Max, never said if she had seen him or if he was invited. But he and Sam had been such good friends, it was hard to imagine he would not be there. With June, his girlfriend. May couldn’t help wondering whether Max ever thought of her in the way she still thought of him as she lay in her bed at the Dubois’, imagining his hands on her, feeling the intensity of his kisses, yearning to return them. Or had he been able to forget her? Despite knowing she would never see him again, she couldn’t shake off the memories.

  And then David dropped his own bombshell. One morning, he returned from work, left his briefcase at the door of his bedroom that doubled as his office and came into the kitchen where May was putting out carrot soup, a baguette and some smelly blue cheese she had bought in the street market onto the scarred wooden table. ‘I’ve made a decision at last.’

  She looked up. ‘About?’

  ‘I’ve been in touch with my father who says there’s still a place for me at Adairs if I want it. My brother’s cockahoop that he might not have to work there after all.’

  Him too?! Fathers and their sons. He was going to leave her, taking Eloise with him. Her hand rose to her chest as her heart constricted. She could not credit history repeating itself, ensuring she lost two more people who had become so dear to her. ‘But what about your job here?’

  That was the question she asked but others were shrieking in her head. What about Eloise? What about me?

  ‘The job was never going to work out once Eloise came along and Céleste left. They’ve been generous given my circumstances, but I can’t take advantage of them for any longer. Besides, their patience is running out. I need to go home. I can’t bring up Eloise alone here. At home I’ll be able to get the right sort of help… And what will happen to you when you go home, as I know you will?’ He took her hand. ‘Please don’t look so sad.’

  The prospect of starting all over again was devastating, even though she knew how selfish she was being. He was doing what he believed was the best thing for his daughter, making sure that she was brought up to have a life. Of course he had Eloise’s best interests at heart.

  But what would she do? She would have to leave Paris now, but the thought of home… she wouldn’t think of it. She sat down and ran her finger round the stain a saucer had left.

  ‘I don’t know. I’m going to miss you both so much.’ Her throat tightened.

  He closed his fingers round hers again as he sat too. ‘That’s what I was hoping you’d say. You see, I’d like you to come back with us.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ He knew going back to Scotland would only ever be a stopgap for her before she headed south to London and the unknown. An unknown she didn’t have the confidence to face alone now. She had come bravely to Paris but she didn’t trust herself anymore.

  He smiled. ‘Yes, that’s what I said. I’d like you to go back with me… but as my wife.’

  ‘Your wife?’ May looked at him, dumbfounded. This was the last thing she had expected. By coming to Paris she’d thrown her cards and her future into the air but this… Her relationship with David had developed into a special friendship but the passion she had experienced with Max had been notably absent, and she had been glad of that. She hadn’t been ready to replace him. No. David was her good friend whom she was pleased to help. No more than that. Or at least that’s what she had thought until then.

  ‘Please.’ He got on one knee and took both her hands. ‘We make a good pair and Eloise adores you. You complete us.’

  She felt her cheeks burning as she looked down at him. ‘Get up, please,’ she said. ‘You don’t need to do this.’

  What was she thinking? What was he? Was this a love-match for him or a marriage of convenience? She hoped the former but was scared it might be the latter, although she couldn’t believe he was capable of something so cold-hearted. That wouldn’t fit with the man she had come to know.

  ‘But I do. Perhaps I should have seen sooner that Céleste and I were quite wrong for each other… We wanted such different things from life. I was stupidly swept away when I should have waited until I met someone like you: someone who’s grounded, kind and loving, and with interests we can share.’

  May saw a shadow of something pass across his eyes. Longing? Regret? Relief? ‘But if we get married…’ She could hardly believe she had said that. ‘What about Eloise?’

  She could imagine the scandal when they arrived home. The small-town gossip machine would go into overdrive. Another woman’s baby! Have you heard? May Campbell’s bringing up another woman’s daughter! Where’s the real mother? What did May get up to while she was in Paris? Did she steal him from the mother? Is it really hers? Are you going to the wedding? This wasn’t the way she had envisaged going home at all, or indeed the way she wanted to go there.

  ‘I’m just imagining the reception we’d get.’ Her family would be mortified or angry, or both. She couldn’t go through with it.

  ‘My family will adore you. You needn’t worry about them.’ Still on his knee, he clasped her hands tighter.

  Would Max’s family have adored her? The thought flashed through her mind unbidden. She pictured Wendy preparing for her wedding. How much easier it was for her – just her and Sam. But this was very different. Did she love David? Wasn’t that a must for a happy marriage? But what was love? The extraordinary head-over-heels madness that she had felt for Max might not be there with David, but there was so much else that was. He was kind too, thoughtful, a wonderful father in terrible circumstances. He might not be as exciting a catch as Max but he was steady, reliable, the best of friends.

  Would her family adore him? They probably would. And they, especially her mother, would be impressed that she was marrying into the Adair family. Her idea of a shopping expedition in Edinburgh always took in a visit to the department store, and David’s parents were like local celebrities. Her mother would love being associated with them and being one up on her friends.

  But Eloise.

  Her existence was more difficult to explain away. If it was anyone but May, her mother would be in the frontline of those gossipmongers, surmising, muckraking, enjoying any misfortune visited on someone else’s family. May couldn’t have that. Eloise had done nothing to deserve the sort of attention she would attract in the small-minded community May was from.

  ‘You’ve taken me by surprise.’ She didn’t want to explain all the reactions that were tumbling through her head until she had resolved them.

  ‘Then think about it.’ He got to his feet and took a seat at the table. ‘I don’t want to push you into doing something you’d regret.
Some people might think it’s too sudden but I don’t care. They don’t know how well we’ve got to know each other and I can’t think of having a life without you now.’ The blush that raced over his cheeks touched her, as she recognised the truth in what he said. Even if they were on the rebound from their separate relationships, they were both benefitting from this one in so many ways. The three of them made each other happy: they completed each other. Could May bring up another woman’s child? In that moment, she had never been more certain of anything.

  ‘I don’t need to think about marrying you. Of course I will.’

  The look on his face as he heard those last four words made everything worthwhile. He loved her, all right. He wanted to be with her for the rest of his life. And she wanted to be with him. Of course she did. It made sense. He leaned forward and kissed her. The feeling of his lips on hers for the first time ignited something in her as she lost herself in his embrace. And yet… and yet… something was missing but she brushed that thought to one side. They didn’t know each other in that way yet. All it needed was a little time. They were brought back to the present by the sound of Eloise waking and playing in her cot. May extricated herself from his arms. ‘I’ll get her. But before we say anything to anyone else, we must talk about Céleste and Eloise.’

  ‘Must we?’ For a moment he looked downcast. ‘I know you’re right. I don’t think we’ll have any trouble from Céleste. Look how she’s behaving. Her career is what matters to her. That and Jean-Luc. She’s not interested in Eloise. I suspect she’ll be relieved to see the back of us.’

  Brave words. But would she? Taking the decision out of Céleste’s hands might backfire when what she had given up was thrown into focus. When something was unobtainable, that’s when it became more desirable. If she came back to reclaim Eloise as hers, May didn’t think she could bear it. Once Céleste saw her daughter again who was almost sitting now and charmed everyone who set eyes on her, surely she would want her back. May couldn’t stop that happening.