Forgive Me

by Lesley Pearse

  Looking back she could see it was the fire that started the ball rolling. What with the revelations from Flora, and the police unable to prove it was Andrew, she was left feeling shaky.

  On top of that, after returning from her trip to Carlisle last autumn she had been left with anxiety about Freya. She had waited in vain for a phone call or letter from her, telling her where she was and what she was doing, but there was nothing. As she had no idea how to contact Freya, all she could do was just wait and hope she would surface again.

  Phil was not all that sympathetic; he took the line that it was probably for the best. He felt that Freya was too damaged to value a relationship with the sister who she possibly felt had ruined her own life. Although that might be the case, Eva still couldn’t help feeling hurt and disappointed.

  Fortunately Horace, the owner of Serendipity – the shop she’d just started working at before the fire – rang her around the same time to say her job was still open for her if she wanted to come back. She had accepted gratefully; aside from desperately needing to earn some money, she needed something to divert her.

  It felt good to be back at work, and it lifted her spirits to be part of a friendly team. There was exciting new stock coming in daily for Christmas, and each day the shop became busier, leaving her little time for dwelling on unresolved problems.

  Soon after starting back at Serendipity she also got the go-ahead from the insurance company to renovate the house in Pottery Lane. Phil took over as project manager, getting Patrick’s architect friend to draw up plans, and took on builders he knew to do the work.

  All through November and December she and Phil saw far less of each other: she was working more hours in the run-up to Christmas, Phil had his own work, and in the evenings and weekends he helped out at Pottery Lane.

  She had sent off a copy of the statement to Gregor, and he’d rung her as soon as he’d read it. Like Patrick he had found it very upsetting, especially the revelation that Flora had been pregnant by him and had later miscarried without ever telling him.

  ‘I would’ve made sure she had the best of care,’ he said, his voice breaking. ‘Maybe she would still have lost the baby, but at least I would’ve been there to comfort her.’

  Eva didn’t really know what to say; to bring up that Flora had withdrawn into herself when she lost Patrick’s baby too, seemed like rubbing salt in the wound.

  ‘If only I hadn’t gone off after the Christmas party,’ he admitted. ‘If I’d stayed, she might have told me about it. And even if she hadn’t, I might have realized something was badly wrong and got her some help. I can’t bear to think she spent the rest of her life being blackmailed into subservience. I know taking you was wrong, but she didn’t deserve such a terrible punishment.’

  Eva felt very sorry for Gregor, yet at the same time she began to feel resentment that Gregor and Patrick seemed to be centring on their part in the story and forgetting about what it had done to her. When she brought this up with Phil one night it caused their first real row.

  ‘How can you even think that?’ he said. ‘Both of them really care about you, they would gladly have accepted you as their daughter, and they both feel for you. Of course they talk about their part in it, that’s just human nature.’

  ‘Don’t take that line with me,’ she said angrily. ‘I was only trying to explain how I felt. I’ve lost my entire family through this, but it couldn’t be helped that Flora miscarried.’

  ‘They both loved her,’ he said in an exasperated voice. ‘It isn’t all about you, Eva.’

  She should of course have agreed that he was right, because she knew he was. But instead of admitting it, she brought up other minor grievances – such as his mother saying, ‘She should forget all about it.’

  ‘As if I can,’ she screamed at him like a madwoman. ‘It’s there in my head every day. It’s not like a light switch I can turn off.’

  Phil’s mother tended to rub her up the wrong way. It wasn’t that she was nasty; she was just blunt, and she had very fixed opinions about almost everything. Eva felt she wished her son had found himself someone without emotional baggage. Mrs Marsh wasn’t worldly enough to understand such a phrase, her words would be that she wanted someone ‘normal’ for him.

  That time, Phil just put his arms around her and cuddled her until she cried, said she was sorry and they made it up. But it was still at the back of her head. She tried to explain to Olive how she felt when her old boss came down to London and they met up for a meal. But Olive wasn’t overly sympathetic either. She just said that Eva had to look at the positive things in her life, like Phil, and stop torturing herself with all the negatives ones.

  Eva held off sending Sophie and Ben copies of Flora’s statement because of Phil. He believed they were too young to cope with such distressing information, and it was likely to send them both off the rails. She hadn’t agreed with him, and that caused another argument just before Christmas.

  ‘You just want to punish them for not believing Andrew tried to kill you,’ Phil flung at her. ‘But we haven’t any proof he set the fire, have we? I agree that they ought to see that statement, but not now when Ben is in his first year at uni, and Sophie is already a mess. Give them a chance to grow up a bit.’

  That was the point when this awful sinking feeling began. She was convinced that Ben and Sophie ought to know what their father was capable of, so they would be wary of him. And she couldn’t believe Phil would interpret her anxiety for them as spite.

  Myles was due to be in court in early December, and she was dreading having to attend – even though the police had said it would be all over in minutes, as he’d pleaded guilty. Three days before the hearing she told the police she was dropping the charges against him. She thought it would be a relief, but instead she just felt cowardly and weak.

  Phil’s mother looked like she was sucking lemons when Eva told her what she’d done. She didn’t actually comment, but Eva got the idea Mrs Marsh thought she’d done it out of guilt because she had led Myles on.

  When Christmas arrived – the first one away from her brother and sister – she felt very sad. She went through the motions of decorating the flat, buying Christmas food and presents for Phil and his family, but her thoughts kept turning back to previous Christmases. There wasn’t even a card from Freya, let alone one from Ben and Sophie, and though Phil claimed to understand how she felt, he kept pointing out that his family were hers now. But they weren’t her family. They had no shared history, and his mother’s tactless remark – that from what she’d heard about Ben, Sophie and Freya, Eva was better off without them – really hurt.

  In mid-January, when the shop grew quiet after the New Year Sale, that was when she began to find it increasingly difficult to cope. It was cold and wet. The washing machine broke down and flooded the kitchen one day, and that made her hysterical. The noise of traffic seemed too loud, the crowded tube in the morning made her panic, she craved solitude. But then when Phil went away to work, she felt frightened on her own.

  She knew Phil was growing irritated by her moods and negativity, but she just couldn’t snap out of it. She felt so tired, she would go to bed the minute she’d eaten the evening meal. And on her day off during the week, and Sunday, all she did was lie on the sofa watching television. She didn’t want to make love any more; she gave up caring about her appearance, and even keeping the flat clean and tidy. She wasn’t interested in how the work at her house was going. If she was truthful, she didn’t really care about anything.

  To be fair to Phil, he did try to jolly her along by saying they could go on a holiday to somewhere warm once the house was finished and up for sale. But she couldn’t even find the will or enthusiasm to collect any brochures from a travel agent. She got the idea into her head that the only thing which would make her feel better was if Ben and Sophie knew the truth about their father. Finally, two weeks ago, without telling Phil, she sent the statements off to them.

  Because she was afraid Andrew m
ight intercept Sophie’s copy, she sent them both to Ben at his address in Leeds with a covering letter asking him to give Sophie hers, and explained where the original was found. She said how sorry she was that they had to find out the truth about their father like this. But even though she knew now she had no blood tie to them, she would always think of them as her brother and sister. Her final message to them was that they mustn’t allow Andrew to get them to sign over their half of the house to him. She pointed out that Flora had gone through hell to keep them all secure. Therefore, it was their duty to ensure they honoured her wishes.

  Yet almost as soon as she’d posted the envelope, she’d panicked and wished she hadn’t. Was her motive just spite, as Phil had suggested, because they hadn’t believed their father had set the fire? What she had perceived as an act of a loving and concerned elder sister suddenly seemed callous and irresponsible. As her anxiety grew, she withdrew even further from Phil, and she sensed he was reaching the end of his tether.

  The row they’d had this morning had brought all this home to her. He’d brought her a cup of tea, as he always did. But as he went to put it down on the bedside table he tripped and spilled the tea everywhere – on the bedclothes and the carpet.

  ‘I tripped on those magazines,’ he said accusingly, pointing to the ones on the floor. ‘Do you have to leave them there?’

  She said something about him leaving dirty clothes on the bathroom floor for her to pick up. And suddenly they were off, shouting at one another.

  ‘I haven’t seen you pick up anything for weeks,’ he yelled. ‘Yours or mine. We haven’t had a decent meal, a night out, or even a real conversation either. It’s like living with a zombie.’

  ‘You’re never here to do any of those things,’ she screamed at him. ‘What’s the point in me cooking something nice if you don’t come back until after nine at night?’

  He exploded with rage then. ‘Anyone would think I was down the pub. I’m at your house, doing it up, for God’s sake! I don’t know what to do with you any more. I thought we were going to be a team, but it’s more like I’m your handyman, here to sort everything for you so you can lie around feeling sorry for yourself. My friends have all worked their socks off to get the house finished, and you can’t even be bothered to go along there and see their work!’ he roared at her. ‘Every time I go there I have to make excuses for you, but I’m running out of them now. I wouldn’t blame them at all if they thought you were just a money-grabbing bitch who can’t wait to pocket the huge profit you’ll make when you sell it. What happened to the girl who used to help, who made the guys tea and cared about someone other than herself? My mum takes more interest in the house than you do. She even came over on the bus last Sunday to bring some stew for our lunch. She was shocked that you weren’t there helping.’

  ‘I bet that made her day!’ Eva shouted back. ‘It would confirm what she’s always thought – that I’m not good enough for you. I bet she even told you that you should get half the money from the sale of the house, and get shot of me.’

  The moment those words came out of her mouth, Eva knew she’d gone too far. She had never seen Phil look so angry.

  His face darkened and his eyes flashed dangerously. ‘You bitch!’ he exclaimed. ‘You must think that’s what I’m after, or you wouldn’t have said it. As for my mother, she was just being kind bringing some stew round. She wanted to please both of us, to help in the house if she could. If you can twist that into something nasty, then I think it’s time we called it a day.’

  He left then, slamming the front door so hard it was a wonder the glass panel didn’t break.

  It was fear that he would leave her that had made her decide to meet him this afternoon at Pottery Lane. Any other man would have taken himself off to the pub, or even to his mother’s for Sunday lunch and some sympathy, and he certainly wouldn’t have gone back to Pottery Lane after the things she’d said to him. But Phil would never leave a job half done, however angry he was with her.

  Besides, Brian would be there, completing the new kitchen. And aside from trying to make amends with Phil, she needed to thank Brian for all the work he’d done on her behalf.

  She did feel very ashamed that she hadn’t been there since early January, but she just hadn’t been able to face the cold, the mess and seeing Brian too. She knew a perceptive man like him would notice she wasn’t herself and would ask Phil about it.

  She hated the idea of them discussing her state of mind.

  As she opened the door at No. 7, she was greeted by loud male laughter. To her surprise Patrick was there with Brian and Phil, and she felt a momentary stab of jealousy that they were all happy when she was feeling miserable.

  ‘Eva!’ Patrick came towards her, smiling a warm welcome. ‘I only came round on the off chance Phil might be here, and now I’ve got you both. How lucky is that?’

  Patrick had gone to America for a month in late January. Although he had phoned a couple of times since he got back, they hadn’t met up.

  ‘Hi, Patrick,’ she replied, trying hard to smile. ‘Lovely to see you.’

  ‘Isn’t this great now?’ Patrick waved his arms at the room. ‘It’s so huge.’

  When Eva had last seen it the men were knocking down the wall to the garage. There were metal posts holding up the ceiling, with debris everywhere, so it was difficult to imagine what it would be like when it was finished. Patrick was right; it was a huge room now, with two windows either side of the front door. The kitchen area was at the front by the left-hand window. A new, very attractive pine staircase came down against the opposite wall, leaving what seemed a vast open living space with new, even larger patio doors on to the garden.

  She knew she should be jubilant that it looked so wonderful, yet she couldn’t feel anything but resentment that Phil had become far more interested in the project than he was in her.

  ‘The kitchen looks beautiful, Brian,’ Eva said, knowing she must say something positive or risk alienating him too. It was pale golden beech and it had everything: integrated fridge-freezer, washing and dishwashing machines, even a cooker hood that was ducted to the outside. ‘I don’t believe this one fell off a lorry!’

  ‘Sadly not.’ He grinned. ‘If you want the top price for this place you have to put in top-quality fittings. But why are you looking so sad today? Come here and have a hug.’

  ‘I’m not sad, just tired,’ she lied and let him hug her.

  Phil hadn’t greeted her at all. She could hardly blame him after the things she’d said that morning. To imply he was after her money was appalling, and completely untrue. Phil hadn’t got a mercenary bone in his body.

  She looked across at him fixing door handles on the cupboards; he hadn’t even looked round to acknowledge she was there. But she couldn’t apologize to him in front of Brian and Patrick – and she was afraid he wouldn’t accept her apology either.

  ‘You’ve done a wonderful job here, Brian,’ she said, hoping he hadn’t noticed how Phil was with her. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t been round lately, you must think I’m really unappreciative.’

  ‘I expect you find being on your feet all day in the shop tiring,’ Brian replied, his voice oozing sympathy. ‘By the time you get out of there, I expect the last thing you want is a walk down cold dark streets to come here.’

  She saw Phil looking at her, his expression so cold it sent shivers down her spine.

  ‘I’ll just go and look upstairs,’ she said. ‘Then I’ll make you all some tea. The staircase is fabulous, by the way.’

  She scooted up the stairs to inspect the newly painted bedrooms. Phil never normally brooded about things she said in the heat of the moment. But then she’d never said anything as bad as that before. She would have to try to make it up to him tonight.

  Phil had skimmed all the walls and ceilings upstairs and painted the walls cream. There were smart new doors too. When she went into the small bedroom she felt a stab of sorrow to see the teddy bear frieze had gone, even though she kn
ew it had to go. She looked out of the window to see that the garden was bare aside from one lone daffodil. She remembered that she’d intended to plant at least a hundred when they got back from Scotland last year. That was just another bitter reminder that the fire had spoiled all their plans.

  ‘Brian was right, you do look sad.’ Patrick’s voice came from behind her. ‘What’s wrong?’

  Eva wheeled round. ‘It was a year ago today that Mum died. And today is my real birthday,’ she said. ‘I didn’t think it would affect me, but I woke up thinking about it this morning.’

  He came up to her and put his arms around her. ‘I didn’t know it was today. But maybe I tuned into something, because I felt I had to come here this afternoon, and I hoped you’d be here. What’s wrong between you and Phil? And don’t say “nothing” – I could sense the bad vibes.’

  She leaned into his shoulder, very tempted to admit she felt like an overwound clock and that the spring was likely to break any minute. But she couldn’t admit such things – not to him, or anyone.

  ‘We had a row this morning. I said something very hurtful. I seem to get sad about everything these days, even because the bears have gone from this room. And that’s really silly, as they were covered in soot.’

  Patrick stroked her hair gently. ‘When you have a baby I’ll paint more bears for him or her.’

  ‘I’ve done something really stupid,’ she whispered. ‘Phil will be even angrier with me if I tell him, because he said I wasn’t to do it.’

  ‘You’ve ordered a Rolls-Royce?’ he joked. ‘Or is it just a very expensive dress?’

  ‘I wish it was something like that,’ she sighed. ‘You see, I sent the statements off to Ben and Sophie. Phil said they were too young. I’m panicking now in case he’s right.’