The wind blew again, piercing through her. She’d go back, get in the car and return to London. Gloria and Rosalind could take a train, or Nathan could drive them home. She turned to go back to the car and there was Nathan, standing on the edge of the field, watching her.
Now she would have to walk right round the other side of the field to get back through the trees to the main road and up the drive to avoid him, and get to her car. He walked quickly towards her.
‘Lorna, stop. Please listen.’
She went on walking, not wanting to talk to him, have him scold her for trashing Beth’s arrangement. It was difficult to go fast; she was tripping in her thin boots on the knotty grass. Nathan’s boots were thicker; tough, working boots that coped well with the terrain and he was beside her in a moment.
‘Look, it wasn’t your fault. After you’d gone, two more apples rolled off the table knocking off the last of the pies. Beth didn’t mean the things she said. She’s overdone it; she always does when something excites her. She’s really sorry.’
Lorna went on walking. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a halt.
‘Please believe me. I don’t want this to cause any aggro between us. It was all going so well and the house lends itself perfectly to what I want. We’ve put those dratted pies back, it’s all right, really, it is. And those cakes, Gloria told me you have a business, you should have told me about it, of course we can include them.’
It was heavy-going enough with so many clods of mud on her boots without having to tow Nathan along as well, so Lorna did stop, but she did not look at him. Instead she stared fiercely out at the undulating land, her breath coming fast after her exertions and her heightened emotions.
‘Please come back. We were going to have lunch, lots of ham.’ She could hear laughter in his voice, but she would not succumb to it. He wanted Ravenscourt for his brochure and would do anything to keep the peace until it was finished to his satisfaction. He’d let her have her cakes in the shot, but would probably airbrush them out later. Even if Beth was not his wife he would stand up for her, she was important to him for the success of the shoot and his business.
She was overcome with a feeling of abandonment. She faced him. His eyes were tender and he was smiling. She felt herself weakening, though Beth’s anger still smarted.
‘This whole thing has got out of hand. I was so surprised that Fergus left me the house; I never expected it at all. I still can’t quite believe it. It may sound ungrateful, but it needs so much doing to it, that, though I hate to say it, it’s more of a millstone, really. He probably didn’t know the state of it; being too disabled these last years to see to it. Then Gloria, Rosalind and I all got a bit silly with mad plans for Christmas. You’ve seen it close enough to know how much damage there is under your garlands. I think it’s best to contact an estate agent, see what they say, and I might as well do it while I’m here. I’ll go into Chichester and find one to take complete charge of it. I’m so tired of everyone else having opinions about it, they… you… all mean well, but it only makes the situation worse.’
‘They’ll never sell it by Christmas.’ Nathan took her arm, walking with her beside the field. ‘It’s cold and you’ve no coat. Would you like my jersey? You don’t want to add pneumonia to your problems.’ Before she could protest, he’d whipped off his jersey, put it over her head and pulled it over her.
It was warm from his body. The scent of him clinging to the soft wool made her dizzy and she stumbled. He caught her by both arms, holding her steady, and she had to shut her eyes to hide her sudden desire from him. How could her body play such foolish tricks? It had been so long since Stephen had held her and she missed that; the feel and the scent of a male body close to hers. She was in grave danger of making a fool of herself, misinterpreting his kindness for tenderness. He wanted to keep her on side until his brochure was done, not start an affair with her, she told herself firmly, moving away from him.
‘I know you are going through a bad time.’ Nathan took her arm again and led her on as though she was a nervous horse and might start up and bolt off at any moment. ‘Gloria told me about your problems with your ex-husband and I’m very sorry. People can become very peculiar in their middle age or at retirement, and it can’t be easy for you. It’s so good of you to lend us Ravenscourt, I love it; it’s a wonderful house. I, and indeed Beth, never wanted to make things difficult for you. She’s in tears and I’ve sent her home to get some rest. She takes things far too seriously.’ All the time he was speaking his voice was soft and gentle, soothing her, and for a little while she let herself be soothed, it was such a luxury.
The wind blew again as if mocking them; she felt him shiver as he walked beside her. ‘You must be cold in just a shirt, you need your jersey,’ she said, but she did nothing to give it back.
‘We’re nearly there, but perhaps we could walk faster.’ He increased his step, looking down at her boots. ‘You should have thicker soles, rubber soles. Aren’t your feet wet?’
‘Yes, they are. I didn’t think, I was so…’
‘I know.’ He slipped his hand from her arm taking her hand in his and squeezed it. Both their hands were cold but she felt a shot of fire go through her as their palms touched. He went on, ‘But it’s all over now. No one meant any harm by it, and when you see the pictures in the brochure it will be a lovely souvenir for you. I wish…’ He stopped abruptly, his face grave. His eyes searched hers and for one mad moment she thought he was going to say he cared for her. He went on with an awkward laugh, ‘It’s a lovely house but it needs so much tender loving and expensive care, it will need a rich man to buy it.’
‘I don’t know what it’s worth or how much would be needed to restore it.’ She was determined he would not guess at her feelings at needing tender, loving but not particularly expensive care herself. ‘I would think it would need to pay for itself. I suppose someone could make it into a hotel, one of those small, country house ones, or even a few flats.’
‘Carving it up might spoil it. I suppose it could be done well, but…’ he smiled. ‘There are lots of possibilities. But just now it’s a perfect backdrop for my brochure.’
‘Have you recently started this business, or been doing it for ages?’ She was working up to ask if he’d be interested in taking some of their cakes while she had his attention.
‘Mulberry Farm is my mother’s house and when my father died I…’ he paused and she saw a flash of pain cross his face. He recovered quickly, threw her a quick smile. ‘It’s a long story, but I had to sort out his affairs and I’d just bought this business so I set it up in the barn, but really it’s too cramped and it’s too intrusive for her … and me. The business started off as a small thing but suddenly it’s taken off. People seem to want to buy traditional, good food; well-cooked real ham instead of that re-constituted pink monstrosity sold in the supermarkets, and Christmas puddings and cakes. I want to branch out into luxury foods that can be eaten throughout the whole year, not just at Christmas. Your cakes…’ he added, as an afterthought, as if he could read her mind, ‘they look delicious… are delicious. Remember I stole one at that fair? Perhaps we should go into business together.’
His smile made her wonder if he were joking, just saying it to keep her sweet. Wouldn’t a more astute businesswoman now throw out some marketing plan? They reached the stile leading into the wood. He jumped over and turned to help her, his hands on her waist as she clambered down to stand beside him. She landed a little awkwardly and for a second he held her close to steady her, she felt his breath on her cheek. How good it would be to lay her face in the crook of his neck, feel his warm skin against her lips, but he moved away abruptly and said, ‘Gloria told me you’re all coming here for Christmas. Let’s hope the house holds up until then,’ he laughed. ‘You must all come over to us; my mother always gives a large party on Boxing Day.’ He let go of her hand and called out to Rosalind, who was coming through the walled garden towards them, looking anxious. ‘I’m just sayi
ng to Lorna you must all come over to Mulberry Farm for our party on Boxing Day.’
Rosalind darted a look at Lorna and said warily, ‘Gloria’s told him about our house party.’
‘Who is taking my name in vain?’ Gloria appeared behind her. ‘There you are Lorna! There was no harm done really, Beth just threw a hissy fit over nothing, she says she’s very sorry, didn’t mean it.’ Gloria hugged her. ‘Come and pose in their picture, you’re a pro at this, Lorna. She’s a film extra,’ she said to Nathan.
‘Oh,’ he looked interested, ‘then you’ll know the ropes, perhaps you ought to direct it.’
‘No, I’m sure you can manage,’ Lorna said. Beth may have gone home but surely that wouldn’t stop Nathan wanting to do it his own way.
‘As it seems you are all going to be here for Christmas, you must come over to our party on Boxing Day,’ Nathan smiled at Gloria.
‘Oh,’ Gloria looked awkward. ‘Thanks, we’ll let you know. We’re not quite sure how many we’ll be.’
‘It’s open house. Bring them all, or whoever wants to come.’ Nathan said cheerfully. ‘Now let’s get this shoot done, then we can all have lunch.’
Seeing Rosalind eyeing her in Nathan’s jersey, Lorna took it off as nonchalantly as possible. The sudden cold she experienced without it came more from the loss of intimacy she’d felt while wearing it than the biting wind. He took it from her, pulling it on while walking back into the house.
‘Gallant of him,’ Gloria said dryly.
Lorna said. ‘I left my coat in the car. I’m going to put it on now, I’m freezing.’
‘Stand next to Nathan and you’ll be warm enough,’ Gloria said.
‘Don’t be silly,’ Lorna retorted. ‘There will be no more complications in my life. I have far more than I can cope with already.’
‘You can’t stop complications turning up like a string of buses, when there have been none for ages, more’s the pity,’ Gloria followed Nathan back inside.
‘Are you feeling better, Lorna? It was unforgivable of Beth to go off at you like that,’ Rosalind said. ‘It was only a few mince pies, for goodness sakes, and your cakes looked so pretty among it all. You’d think you had destroyed her whole life by the way she carried on.’
‘I’m fine,’ Lorna said. ‘Let’s get on with it.’ She went back into the house, feeling suddenly light and happy that Beth had gone home to rest. It would be so much more fun without her.
18
Telling the Children
‘I remember Ravenscourt had great trees to make tree houses,’ Marcus said. He’d dropped carelessly down in a chair, one leg hanging over the arm of it, a mug of coffee held precariously in his hand.
‘You won’t want to build tree houses now,’ Lorna said briskly. The children had come back from university for their Christmas break, and, so far, though nothing had been said, it seemed that both of them, to her great relief, would be spending Christmas at home.
After their day at Ravenscourt watching Nathan’s photographic shoot, the three women, fiercely driven by Gloria, were determined to go through with their mad idea. ‘Aunt Felicity and Uncle Jonathan are coming here on Christmas day with the girls – not Becky of course, as she’s in Australia, and Colin and Sue with Toby and Grania.’
‘And Dad goes to Ravenscourt?’ Marcus frowned. He found Aunt Felicity a pain, with her hectoring code of behaviour. ‘I think I’d rather like to go there too, escape Aunt F’s religious fervour.’
Lorna’s heart sank. Despite Gloria carefully explaining it to him, Marcus obviously didn’t realise, or want to face, the reason the three women wanted their husbands to spend Christmas at Ravenscourt. He appeared to think there was a choice as to where each person could spend the holiday; a London Christmas here or a country one at Ravenscourt, though she had to admit that the arrangement did sound rather peculiar.
‘I explained that we thought it best if Dad, Adrian and Ivan went to Ravenscourt together, had a sort of male-only Christmas, as their behaviour has been monstrous and sadly, we know from other times, they are bound to ruin our Christmas this year and we’ve had enough of it,’ Lorna said with exasperation.
‘It sounds as if you are imprisoning them there.’ Marcus exclaimed, as if the men were being shipped off to Guantanamo Bay. ‘I think we all ought to go there. There’s masses of room, isn’t there? We could put them in one part of it and us in another.’
‘They deserve it, leave them there until they come back as the people we once loved,’ Flora said languidly from her prone position on the sofa.
‘It’s hardly a prison, it’s a lovely place and beautifully decorated, with huge open fires, and wonderful food. Dad will be there with two of his oldest friends.’ Lorna went on desperately, ashamed of that dratted guilt that was creeping into her.
‘I’d love a Christmas in the country; remember those times with Gran and Gramps? It’s more Christmassy somehow, and imagine if it snowed!’ Marcus’s face became animated. ‘Let’s all go to Ravenscourt. I’m sure Dad will behave with other people there, and he won’t have that silly bitch with him.’
‘I don’t want to see him ever again unless he changes back into the father he used to be,’ Flora said firmly. ‘I want to stay here, what’s wrong with here? We had a great time last year and I thought it was all organised anyway.’
‘That was last year when we were still a family. Dad was here,’ Marcus said through clenched teeth. ‘It’s different now. This is our home and Ravenscourt will be neutral, it would make it easier for everyone.’
Lorna was near tears. This time last year she’d never have guessed how much her life would have changed. Last Christmas had been difficult, though moments of it had been as it used to be. Perhaps she’d pretended that nothing was wrong, for looking back, there were signs that heralded the end of their marriage, but in the bustle of things to do she’d put them on the back burner of her mind. But whatever Stephen had done he was still their father. He’d been a wonderful father before his personality changed so drastically, but there was Gloria and Rosalind to think of too, she couldn’t let them down.
On their drive back from Ravenscourt, the three of them had discussed getting the men there for Christmases. The transformation of the desolate house into a festive scene had raised their spirits, making them wonder if their mad idea might be feasible after all.
They all decided to tell their own children the plan today, a week before Christmas. Rosalind’s children, Emma and Chloe, were still a bit young to understand it fully, but they were angry and upset with their father for always saying he hadn’t time to do things with them while giving his time to other children. He’d tell them when he saw them that the children he spent time with were not so lucky as they were with their nice house, food and new clothes. Polly, hadn’t helped by saying she wasn’t at all surprised he’d rather stay away from them as they could be such brats, which added to their fear that their father didn’t love them. Emma, with Chloe in tow, had recently asked Rosalind if Daddy would have time to come home for Christmas, but said that they didn’t want him to come if he turned up with someone ‘who was alone for Christmas’ that they, ‘who had so much, must be kind to?’
Justin had firmly told Gloria that he would only come home for Christmas if his father were not there. He wanted to invite his girlfriend for lunch but said, ‘I can’t have Dad drunk all over the place, 'effing it up.’
Lorna had already discussed the plan with her children, and though Marcus had suggested they all go to Ravenscourt, she had not taken his suggestion seriously.
‘I’m sorry, but you can’t go to Ravenscourt, Marcus. At least,’ she added, seeing his face, ‘until after Christmas. We’ve all been very hurt by Dad’s behaviour and embarrassed too. He only wants to be with us because he’s nowhere else to go. When this… girl comes back he will leave us again and go back to her.’
‘He might not. It might be his way of saying sorry,’ Marcus said defiantly.
‘Too right it is,
’ Flora burst out. ‘I think it’s disgusting, my father going off with such a bitch, and so young too. I don’t care where he spends Christmas as long as it is not with me.’
The pain in Flora’s voice twisted into her. Flora had adored her father and now she hated him for discarding her. She moved to hug her but Marcus broke in,
‘You’re one to talk! You’ve gone after an older man, a married man, and are knocked up.’
‘That’s different,’ Flora retorted.
‘I don’t see why? At least Dad’s girl isn’t married.’
‘But Dad was.’
‘Children, please.’ Stephen’s behaviour was like a hand grenade tossed in among them, causing such tearing injuries. She went upstairs to her bedroom, lay on the bed and sobbed.
The telephone rang, jolting her out of her misery. She dashed away her tears as if whoever was on the other end could see her red, blotched, face. It was Gloria. ‘How did it go? Telling them it’s on, I mean.’
‘Not too well. Marcus wants to go to Ravenscourt too. He thinks it sounds fun . . . more fun than here anyway.’ Her voice wobbled.
Gloria said, ‘I never thought of that. But don’t take it to heart. You probably made it sound too good. I told Justin; or rather I just said that Adrian was going with friends to the country. He didn’t even ask where or why. Liz and Peter and their three are coming here too. Justin’s coming on Christmas Eve, so I suggest we get them all to Ravenscourt the day before.’
‘I don’t think it will work,’ Lorna said.
‘It will; it must. Rosalind has told her girls and warned them not to talk about it with Ivan. He’s agreed to go; he thinks it’s an impromptu house party you’ve decided to throw before you put the house on the market. She’s afraid he might ask one of his needy women, though she’s told him there’s no room for anyone extra and that since it is your house, he can’t, anyway. We’ll drive them down, or I suppose they will drive us. We’ll say the children are coming later and once we’ve got them there Clara and her friend, Jane, will look after them and see they stay there. We’ll drive back with the cars. I don’t think mobiles work there, Clara will disconnect all the phones and she’ll hide one in the kitchen for emergencies.’
Difficult Husbands Page 15
