Lifting the two carrier bags of shopping from the passenger seat, he lugged them to Lisa’s door and rang the bell. Sure enough, moments later the girl answered, child on hip in her customary pose.
‘Rick,’ her eyes lit up again. This time her free arm went round his neck and she hugged him to her and Izzy. ‘I hoped you’d call by.’
‘I didn’t know if you’d be in.’
‘We’re always in. We never go anywhere.’
‘I can’t stop,’ he said, suddenly conscious of being there. Her face fell with disappointment. ‘Not even for a quick cuppa?’
‘Well . . . ’ He softened. ‘Maybe I’ve time for a quickie.’ Then he flushed. ‘A quick cuppa. A cuppa. That’s all.’
‘We love having visitors, don’t we, Izzy? No one ever comes to see us.’
He followed her into the kitchen. The house was still cold and damp. ‘No luck with the boiler?’
‘Not yet.’ She shrugged. ‘I keep ringing the landlord. He said he might do it next week.’
Might. Rick gritted his teeth. Next week was Christmas week, and he couldn’t bear the thought of the pair of them being here, alone and cold.
‘I brought this.’ Rick held out his offering.
‘There’s no need for that,’ Lisa said. ‘You’re too good to us.’ ‘It’s just a few bits to keep you going. I thought you might not be able to get out to the shops with the snow and that.’
‘We are down to slightly weird meals,’ she admitted. ‘Last night we had Cornish pasties from the freezer and boiled rice.’
They both pulled a rueful face at that.
‘It was a low point,’ she offered. ‘I was going to try to get more organised today.’
‘Well, I hope this helps.’
‘Thanks.’ Bashfully, Lisa took the bags and peeped inside. She rooted through the groceries, her face rapt. ‘It’s like Ready Steady Cook,’ she laughed, and put the carriers to one side. ‘I’ll have to see what I can rustle up.’ Then, ‘You don’t need to bring me presents, you know. I just like seeing you.’ She tucked her hair behind her ear, and it struck Rick how young she really was. ‘I’ll put that kettle on.’
‘There’s milk in there, too,’ Rick said.
‘You’re a lifesaver.’
Lisa made them tea, and he sat and drank it, feeling elated and guilty and relaxed and edgy and a hundred different emotions that he couldn’t identify. He kept his eye on the clock on the ancient cooker while he told her about Chloe’s false alarm and the abandoned trip to Bruges. She made sympathetic noises in all the right places. Half an hour later, he said, ‘I have to go now.’
‘It’s been nice seeing you.’ Lisa stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. ‘Say goodbye to Rick,’ she told Izzy.
‘Bye-bye,’ the little girl said.
‘Come back soon,’ Lisa said as she showed him to the door.
‘I’ll try to,’ Rick replied. ‘If I’m passing.’
‘Thanks again for the shopping.’
‘No worries.’ He held up a hand in farewell, went across to his van and climbed in.
Minutes later, he was heading back through the lanes to Milton Keynes. He should call Merak and tell him he was on his way. But then he remembered he hadn’t got his phone.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The morning goes by in such a blur that I don’t have time to think about my family once, or the fact that Christmas is looming large and I’ve still got masses to do. The office has been frantic this morning, and I can’t imagine why anyone would be thinking about buying, selling or renting a home at this time of year. They should be writing Christmas cards, wrapping presents and buying turkeys.
I’m eating my sandwich at lunchtime and making yet another Christmas list when Robin comes out of his office. ‘What have you got planned after work tonight, Juliet?’ he asks. ‘Anything arranged?’
‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘I need to feed my family, but there’s nothing new there.’
‘If you and I finished work an hour early, could you do a little favour for me?’
‘Of course.’ If the boss asks you to knock off early, you’re hardly going to say no, are you? ‘What can I help you with?’
‘Christmas present for Rosemary.’ He perches on my desk. ‘I thought jewellery. Something nice. But I’m clueless. I thought I’d try that new place that’s opened in the High Street. Will you come with me?’
‘I’d love to.’
‘We’ll leave at four,’ Robin says. ‘Then I can take my time.’ He smiles at me. ‘Till then.’
Sandwich finished, I work like a mad thing all afternoon to get through the admin that’s piling up. I’m making good headway and am just sorting out a tenancy agreement for a new rental client when a mobile bleeps in my handbag, though it’s not my tone. When I rummage inside, I realise that – stupidly – I must have picked Rick’s phone up as well as my own. I bet he’s going crazy without it. That may even be him texting me from Merak’s phone to find out where it is.
But when I check the message, it isn’t from Merak’s phone. I sit back in my chair. It’s from a woman named Lisa. Hi, it says. Great to see you today. Thanks for everything. Luv Lisa. And there are kisses – a whole row of them.
Scrolling back through the messages, I find that over the last few days this Lisa has messaged my husband quite a lot. Including at four in the morning, when Rick told me that it was to do with work. I knew that sounded fishy even then.
Staring at the phone, heart pounding, a taste of bile in my throat, I feel as if the stuffing has been knocked out of me. Does he think I’m totally stupid? I read the text again. What does this mean, then? Is Rick seeing someone else? If he is, then when exactly does he find the time? I have to say that there’s nothing too overtly sexy in the messages, but they do have quite a cosy tone to them. It’s clear that he’s seen this lady more than once. I check to see if I can find texts that he’s sent to her, but they’ve all been deleted. I’m not sure I like that, either. Now what do I do? I could simply ask Rick to explain himself when I get home. That, surely, would be the best thing to do. Get everything out into the open. But it’s the run-up to Christmas. Do I really want to rock the boat now? What if the answer is something that I don’t want to hear? I thought I could trust my husband with my life, but then I know how easy it is to be tempted. When things aren’t great at home, it seems the solution can be another pair of waiting arms. I feel sick to think of it. Would Rick really do this to me? We’ve had no time for each other recently. But what’s new? The demands of family life are relentless, and he knows the pressure we’ve both been under, what with Mum, Dad back at home, Samuel’s death, Chloe’s break-up and the impending baby. We could both easily have cracked under the strain of holding everything together. Would he really start an affair, in the circumstances? But the truth is, I have no idea. People, even reliable husbands, do strange things when the heat is on. Does this woman offer him some peace and quiet from the madness? Does she offer him the passionate sex that’s sadly missing at home? My brain creates an image that I just don’t want to see. What I do know is that sitting here staring at the phone in an accusatory manner isn’t going to bring about any kind of resolution. I have to do something.
But, failing to come up with a plan of any kind, I do nothing more than slip Rick’s phone back into my bag with trembling fingers and stew on it for the rest of the afternoon.
Just before four, I ring Chloe. ‘Hello, love. Everything OK?’
‘Other than I’m still as fat as a house, fine.’
‘I’m going to do a bit of Christmas shopping with Robin Westcroft tonight. Help him out with a pressie for his wife.’
‘All right for some,’ Chloe tuts.
‘I’ve left a shepherd’s pie in the fridge for dinner. Can you put it in and sort out some veg to go with it?’
There’s a huff. ‘Why didn’t you phone Dad?’
‘Because I have your father’s mobile in my handbag,’ I explain. ‘Besides, your dad�
��s got a full day. You’re not working at the moment, Chloe. It won’t hurt you to peel a few carrots for when he gets home.’
‘I’m looking after Jaden.’
I can hear my dad singing away to my grandson in the background. Chloe’s probably had her feet up watching television all afternoon. It’s clear that my daughter needs a few lessons in home management. ‘Just do it, please. It won’t kill you.’
Another huff. ‘OK.’
‘I won’t be that late,’ I promise. ‘Tell Dad where I am. Oh, and can you save me some dinner please? Just a bit.’
‘Yep. Anything else?’
‘No.’ A sigh escapes my lips. ‘That’s all.’
I hang up and wonder, really, why I bother.
Chapter Thirty
At four o’clock on the dot, Robin appears in front of my desk. ‘Ready?’
‘Two minutes.’ I shuffle the pile of papers on my desk into a semblance of order and then shrug on my coat.
‘See you tomorrow, everyone,’ Robin says to the rest of the staff, and he and I leave the office to its own devices.
Outside on the pavement, I have a fit of the giggles.
‘What’s wrong?’ Robin says.
‘This feels slightly naughty,’ I tell him. ‘As if we’re sneaking off to play hookey.’
‘Let’s make the most of it, then.’
The air is sharp, tinged with frost. The snow that’s on the ground is crisp and sparkles in the streetlight. It’s treacherous underfoot. I slither towards the kerb.
‘Whoa,’ Robin says, and he hooks his arm through mine to steady me. We set off in step on Mission Buy Rosemary’s Christmas Present.
‘The High Street looks very pretty,’ I say as we progress side by side. All the coloured lights are twinkling and it looks homely, welcoming.
‘So it does,’ Robin agrees.
‘Did you enjoy the switch-on event for the lights?’
‘Yes,’ he says. ‘Very much so.’
‘And Rosemary?’
He sighs. ‘If I’m perfectly honest, I never know what Rosemary’s thinking these days.’
‘Oh.’
‘That’s why I want to get her something special this year. I thought this new jeweller’s might be the right place.’
A well-respected local jeweller from Woburn has just opened a second branch of his shop, Ornato, here in Stony Stratford, and everyone is raving about it. Everyone who has money to buy jewellery, that is.
‘I haven’t been in here yet.’ I haven’t dared. It looks prohibitively expensive for someone of my limited budget, so I’m best staying away. This is the perfect opportunity for me to have a nosey inside.
We make our way along the High Street to the far end where the jeweller’s is located and Robin holds the door open as I slip inside, grateful to be out of the biting cold. The bell rings to herald our arrival.
The shop is truly beautiful. I feel more calm already. This is a lovely distraction from the distress of this afternoon – although those texts are still nagging at the back of my mind. Inside the shop it’s all white, with a dark wood floor and several crystal-clear glass display cases to show off the wares. Silver snowflakes adorn the walls to give it a tasteful, festive feel and soothing music wafts into the room.
‘I should think Rosemary would be happy with absolutely anything from here,’ I whisper. ‘It’s gorgeous.’
We browse the cases, filled with bracelets and necklaces glittering with diamonds. It’s all exquisite, but I’m not sure what’s making me gasp more, the stunning jewellery or the matching price tags.
‘Which of these pendants do you like?’ Robin points at a row of necklaces draped over white stones.
‘They’re all fabulous.’
‘But if you had to choose one, which would you pick?’
There’s a delicate silver necklace with a charm shaped like a teardrop. ‘I like that one.’
‘Me too,’ Robin says. ‘It’s simple. Understated.’
‘Can I help you? Sir? Madam?’ A sleek, glossy sales assistant appears behind the counter.
Robin wheels round. ‘I’m looking for a Christmas present for my wife,’ he says. ‘My friend here is going to help me choose.’
‘What can I show you?’
‘A bracelet? What do you think, Juliet?’
‘These are lovely,’ I offer, pointing out a particular range. I have no idea what Robin’s thinking of paying, but I know that Rick would have heart failure just looking at the tags in here.
My husband isn’t the best present-buyer in the world. I had a wheelbarrow for my fortieth birthday and last Christmas I had a bread-maker, which is still in its box under the stairs. A nice thought, I suppose, but when do I have time to make bread? We have never been the romantic kind of couple – primarily because all our money has been spent on the family, over the years. There’s never been anything spare for lavish presents. Not like this. And it’s never really bothered me. I’m not a flashy-jewellery type of person. Though Rick did surpass himself and bought me a beautiful diamond bracelet for our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. It’s my only good piece and I treasure it, which is a good thing as it may be my husband’s only ever foray into the mysterious world of jewellery-buying. The thought of the illicit texts on his phone push forward again. What is going on there?
After finding out that Rick has a secret from me, I have no idea what to expect this Christmas. There’s nothing I need, no trinket that I desire. All that I’d dearly love is for my husband to stay true and faithful to me. I hope that’s not too much to ask. I thought we were always open with each other. It seems that I was wrong.
The tray of bracelets is put out on the counter for us to peruse, and it pulls me away from my dark thoughts.
‘Do you have a budget in mind?’ the assistant asks.
Robin ponders for a moment. ‘About two thousand pounds.’
I try not to splutter. Two grand? Phew. Lucky Rosemary!
‘Which do you like, Juliet?’
‘They’re all just beautiful.’
‘Slip on a few.’
‘Oh, I couldn’t.’
‘Do,’ he urges. ‘It would be a tremendous help.’
So, with the assistant’s help, I slip a bracelet onto my wrist and model it for Robin, turning it this way and that.
He shrugs, unimpressed by its magnificence. ‘Maybe this one?’
I try on a couple more, but they don’t meet with Robin’s approval. They all look utterly wonderful to me, so perhaps he hasn’t brought the most objective of people with him. We move along the row.
‘This is eighteen-carat gold set with rubies,’ the assistant says.
It’s a Tiffany-style bangle in brushed gold. ‘It’s very festive,’ I say to Robin. The dark rubies glow like a fine wine.
‘Try it on,’ he says. ‘Let me see what it looks like.’
I model the bangle. It feels weighty, substantial on my wrist. Everything about it screams quality. ‘This really is gorgeous.’
‘It suits you.’ Robin looks at the bracelet. ‘Do you think Rosemary would like it?’
‘I think she’d love it.’ Any woman would.
‘The style is classic,’ the assistant chips in. ‘It will never date.’
‘You don’t think that a man should always buy diamonds?’
I try not to laugh. I can’t ever imagine Rick coming out with that statement.
‘This is an excellent alternative,’ she assures him.
‘It’s different,’ I add, for what it’s worth. ‘I think I like this one the best for a Christmas present.’
‘Then let’s take it,’ Robin says.
The assistant goes to gift-wrap the bracelet, and I gaze longingly at some of the other displays. We thought Rick had won the lottery a few years ago but, of course, it was just a hideous mistake. I wonder if I’d be shopping in here now, if we really had. Would we be happier if our bank account was overflowing? Would he be seeking comfort with another woman if we were
sickeningly wealthy?
Robin pays and takes his purchase. Moments later, we’re back on the High Street. ‘That was easily done.’
‘It was a great choice. I don’t think you needed my help at all.’
Robin smiles. ‘But I appreciate it, all the same.’ Then, ‘It’s not yet five o’clock. What shall we do now?’
‘We could go back to the office for half an hour. I’ve a few things to tidy up.’
‘I don’t think so. If we’re going to play hookey, then we’ll do it in style.’ Robin puts his hand under my elbow and steers me across the road. There’s a lovely wine emporium in Odell’s Yard, a little alley just off the High Street, and it looks like that’s where we’re headed. It’s very cosy, and has just a few tables inside where you can enjoy a drink. ‘The night is young, and so are we!’
I laugh, pushing down my anguish. ‘I’m not so sure about that.’
‘Let’s have a drink to celebrate,’ he suggests. ‘A nice glass of red would work wonders now.’
That’s a sentiment I couldn’t agree with more.
Chapter Thirty-One
We manage to bag the last table in the corner of the little wine bar. Robin orders a bottle of Shiraz Cabernet and a Greek platter to share between us.
‘I’m supposed to be having the remains of a shepherd’s pie with my family,’ I tell him as the platter arrives. ‘This is a much better idea.’
Robin pours us a glass of wine and waves away my objections, as I help myself to olives and hummus and deliciously warm pitta bread. The red wine is full-bodied, fruity and hits the spot perfectly. Relief washes over me and, briefly, my anxiety abates. I sigh with pleasure. The restorative properties of red wine are working their magic.
‘Good?’ Robin asks.
I nod in agreement. ‘Excellent.’
With Love at Christmas Page 13
