Best Laid Plans

by Patricia Fawcett

  ‘Why is that?’

  ‘We’re just too different. It’s not unusual. It’s a brother and sister thing,’ she added with a smile.

  He returned her smile, reached for her hand and squeezed it, which made her feel a lot better. Christmas always did this to her, put her on edge, and she knew she should just learn to relax and enjoy it for once. Maybe Monique was right; maybe she did take life much too seriously. She was not going to allow Monique to annoy her, not this time, but she would have to remind herself to count to ten before she said the wrong thing. She always spoke too soon where that little lady was concerned. Monique had perfected the art of looking as if she was about to burst into tears, a look that tore at the heart of any man. It was a useful trait but not one she could emulate. Amy did not cry often but when she did it was the genuine article and she preferred to do it alone because the heaving shoulders, the funny strangled gulping sounds, snot-filled nose, and panda eyes that accompanied her crying was not pretty to behold. Just now, as she sat in the car in front of the house she knew as home, a little stirring inside came as a warning that, emotionally, the sight of it affected her deeply, so she quickly sniffed away the slightest hint of that, reverting to the brisk and business-like exterior she liked to present to the world.

  ‘It’s only a flying visit anyway,’ she went on, trying to reassure herself as much as Brian. ‘I can’t afford to take much time off at this time of year. We open up again the day after Boxing Day but I’m giving that one a miss. We shan’t rest until we’ve got the sales over.’

  ‘Don’t talk shop.’

  ‘Sorry.’ He was, she knew, becoming increasingly impatient with that and she vowed not to mention the store again over the next couple of days although she could not guarantee that nobody else would. Their arrival had surely been noticed and suddenly she was anxious to get the introductions over. Maybe, if she was lucky, she might actually enjoy the break. ‘Come on.’ She clambered out and slammed the car door, stretching and smiling towards the house that was still home.

  ‘I would never have guessed that the removal business could be so lucrative,’ Brian said, helping her lift their cases and the Christmas gifts out of the boot.

  ‘It’s holding its own although things are not easy just now. My grandfather started the business off with just one van,’ she told him proudly. ‘And then he was lucky to get a council contract way back in the sixties and that really helped him build things up. My father’s just carried it on and eventually, I suppose, my brother will take over.’

  ‘Lucky brother,’ he said with an easy smile but she glanced sharply at him all the same. He had stayed overnight at her place last night. She had prepared a meal or at least bought something from the luxury range at M&S and followed the cooking instructions to the letter. They had demolished a bottle of Merlot between them and afterwards had snuggled up beside the fire – gas, unfortunately, not a lovely log one – watching a romantic comedy on television and eventually gone to bed. Compared with his place her flat was tiny, the bedroom scarcely big enough for the bed and she was very aware that the walls were thin and that she had neighbours.

  He certainly knew what was what, saying and doing all the right things, and she knew she should feel fabulous and loved but something was missing and frankly, as she awoke this morning and hastily got out of bed before it all started up again, she was having serious second thoughts. It just wasn’t doing it for her. It was fun, sexy, a good excuse to treat herself to some pretty underwear and she hadn’t done this sort of thing for a while so it was all new again; a guilty pleasure.

  And yet, aside from the more than passable sex, the way he kept buttoned up about his private life and indeed his work was becoming increasingly concerning. He had money, dressed well and drove a brand new black Mercedes; he had a fantastic house filled with expensive furniture and furnishings and he bought and sold collectibles, art and antiques. That was Brian. Trying to get any more information out of him was a lost cause akin to chipping away at concrete with a penknife and it was beginning to rattle her.

  And another thing that was bothering her, one that she had hinted about on the journey, was the lack of family paraphernalia. Everybody had family of sorts but looking round his place it was like a show home with no personal items whatsoever aside from his choice of paintings of which there were many. Somebody had done the interior for him and although the whole place was beautifully warm, heated with a state-of-the-art underfloor system there was a chill about it, too.

  Perhaps it needed a female touch but she had an uncomfortable feeling it would not be her. Pleasing Janet was not a reason to keep this thing on-going. She just knew it wasn’t fair on him if he thought this relationship was going anywhere. There was no mention of marriage or indeed the serious commitment of moving in together for they had only known each other a short time but neither of them was that young and at their age things could turn serious pretty damned quickly. Her whole life could change in an instant on the toss of a coin or perhaps the glimmer of a diamond ring. She knew that if he asked her that question just now she would say no or more likely she would stall and ask for time to think about it. Moving into that lovely barn conversion was tempting and she would not miss her little flat one little bit but that was hardly the right reason to accept a proposal of marriage.

  Was she making a big mistake in bringing him here? You only introduced somebody into the family if you were moderately serious, didn’t you? And was her motive in doing so just to shut her mother up? Janet thought Brian was wonderful but she had only met him the once and she was going purely on physical looks and the winning way he seemed to have with the older ladies. Increasingly, she was beginning to doubt her judgement when it came to Brian and she wondered sometimes just what his hold on her was and how long she would put up with it.

  Too late now, for they were here now and she would have to make the best of it.

  She aimed the remote at the car, clicked it. ‘There’s Mum. Come and meet her.’

  Chapter Five

  Christine was pinning a lot of hope on Brian.

  It had been a big surprise, a shock even, when Amy had phoned and asked if she could bring a friend along for Christmas. She could sense her daughter’s anxiety and was quick to reassure her that they would be delighted to meet the friend, a man called Brian.

  She knew nothing about Brian yet but she determined that over the course of the next few days she would find out the lot. Amy had had only a few boyfriends over the years, was never one for flitting between men, thoroughly focused as she was both at school and university, although of course Christine was not privy to what might have gone on there. It is a funny time when you send your children off to university, grown up kids in theory, but there was that pang in letting them go into that big bad world. It was a disappointment but also a relief when Mike did not get good enough grades because she felt he was the kind of person to be more easily led than Amy whom she was confident could stand her ground with the best of them. Amy was a bright young lady and not easily intimidated, as had been proved. She was proud of her but she worried that her daughter was missing out on the things that mattered in life and that one day, when it was much too late, she would finally cotton on to that and look back with regret.

  Amy was late arriving and those familiar mother-nerves kicked in, her imagination on overdrive as the minutes passed with no answer from Amy’s phone. So the relief was great as she saw the little yellow car coming up the drive at last. She waited a moment, hidden behind the curtain in the dining room as the two of them got out, retrieving bags and wrapped presents from the boot. The first thing she noticed was that Amy had had her dark brown hair cut short; the elfin style suited her. She was a striking girl who had always had unfounded doubts about her appearance, tall and strong-looking, very much her father’s daughter with her light brown wide-set eyes and, not visible but there all the same, his steely determination to succeed.

  She saw at once that Brian was an attractive-l
ooking man, about the same height as Amy with fairish hair, wearing jeans over tan boots and a leather biker-style jacket, an outfit that seemed altogether too young for him, for at first glance she saw he was older than Amy by maybe as much as ten years. She saw him leaning in towards her, caught the smiles they exchanged, which confirmed what she had expected – that the two of them were very close.

  Frank was less happy than she was about the unexpected guest.

  ‘What do we know about this guy?’ he asked when she informed him, going straight into overprotective father mode.

  ‘Nothing, yet.’

  ‘She must be serious about him if she’s bringing him to meet us. She’s never brought anybody home before, has she?’

  ‘Yes she has. There was that lovely boy at school,’ Christine said, recalling that, like her own parents, she had hoped something might come of that one. He was from such a nice family and because she liked him and his family so much she had kept track of him over the years. He became a doctor and was married now with three children living away from his home town. Occasionally she met his mother and they chatted about him and Amy, never quite saying what they were both thinking.

  ‘What boy?’

  Clearly Frank’s memory was not as good as hers or maybe he had never seen the potential there.

  ‘Never mind.’ She shrugged it off.

  ‘What does this man do? How long has she known him?’

  ‘I’ve told you. I don’t know. She’s thirty-five, Frank, not a teenager and she’s a good judge of character. He’ll be fine, you’ll see.’

  But now, as Amy came smilingly towards her, the man following, Christine had a sudden unexpected and totally bizarre reaction.

  For reasons she could not decipher, as he took hold of her hand and smiled at her, she took an instant dislike to him.

  It could snow all it liked now that Amy was here and wouldn’t you know it, as the afternoon progressed it did just that. The forecast had promised snow for the last week and indeed there had been a brief flurry the day before but it had not settled.

  Christine showed Amy and Brian up to their rooms, feeling stupidly flustered as they stood in what was earmarked as Brian’s room pointing out the interlocking door. She caught the slightest smile from him as she explained about the shared bathroom arrangements between this room and Amy’s and was reminded of one of her son’s school friends whom she had never taken to either who had, not surprisingly at all, turned out to be a rotten apple in every respect. As she grew older and wiser, she was rarely wrong about men but hoped in this case she was for he was the first adult man Amy had brought home and Frank was quite right, for that must mean something.

  ‘Do make yourself at home, Brian’ she said, pointing out the wardrobe and chest of drawers as if he couldn’t see these damned huge pieces of furniture for himself before giving him a run-down on how the radiators worked.

  ‘Mum, stop fussing, we can adjust a radiator,’ Amy laughed, giving her a quick hug. ‘And it’s boiling in here, anyway.’

  ‘We like to keep the heating on otherwise it’s like that ice hotel I’ve seen on television. Have you seen that, Brian? You actually lie on a bed shaped from ice. You have warm furs to cover you, of course, and candles and it’s all rather lovely….’ She tailed off, knowing she was rambling on about nothing because she was nervous. ‘If you need anything else just give me a shout,’ she finished, wishing she could stop acting like a B&B owner.

  Leaving Brian to unpack in his room she followed Amy through to the adjoining one. All the bedrooms were a good size and this was no exception, with the addition of an elegant modern chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. It was a well-proportioned room with a brass-framed double bed dressed with simple pale blue linen so that it was feminine without being too girly. A comfortable armchair covered in a blue floral fabric was turned towards the window and the view of the rear garden that sloped gently down to the river. The view was softened when the trees were in leaf but today with the branches bare they could see beyond the river and over to a cluster of houses on the opposite bank towards the hill that dominated the village. Snow was falling steadily now and it looked as if it might settle.

  ‘It looks just the same,’ Amy said, taking a moment to stand and stare.

  ‘Exactly. Why change something when it’s perfect?’

  ‘You’ll miss this place if you have to leave.’

  ‘Why would we leave? We have no intention of leaving.’

  ‘Oh come on, Mum, it’s too big for just the two of you.’

  ‘It was too big for the four of us.’ Christine changed the subject abruptly. ‘He seems very nice,’ she said, lowering her voice and smiling brightly, watching as Amy placed her suitcase on the bed and opened it. She noticed how neatly it was packed but that was no surprise, for Amy liked to keep things tidy. ‘How long have you known him?’

  ‘Since September.’ Amy ran her fingers through her hair, looking surprised as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. ‘This is a mistake. I’m going to let it grow again. I can’t get used to it like this.’

  Ah. So she wasn’t keen to talk about Brian. Sensing the rebuff, Christine determined she would not allow it to upset her. It would all come out, in bits and pieces, and she could observe them together and come to her own conclusion.

  ‘I like your hair like that and it’s lovely to have you here, sweetheart, even if it’s only for a few days.’ She hoped that didn’t sound like a criticism but honestly you would have thought she could have got a few more days off as they hadn’t seen her since August, just before she met this man. She knew that it was partly their fault as she did not relish the trip down to Leeds. Amy’s flat was poky and they had to stay in a hotel and after a few days she was left with the distinct impression that their daughter would be glad to see the back of them as they were causing serious disruptions to her routine.

  ‘A few days off is the best I can manage,’ Amy said without a trace of regret or apology. ‘You’ve no idea how busy it is just now. We need our Christmas figures to be a big improvement on last year so it’s make or break time. It’s a tough business, Mum.’

  ‘I know.’ She very nearly said that perhaps it might have been easier if she had stuck to what she had known from childhood. Amy knew all there was to know about the removal business, had gone into the office with her dad when she was quite young to ‘learn the ropes’ because they had always known that getting Mike motivated would be a challenge.

  And so it had proved. Frank had come close to sacking him but she had persuaded him otherwise for how on earth could they live with themselves if they did that? As it was, his job description was vague in the extreme and the rest of the workforce did not know quite what to make of him, unsure if they should treat him as one of the lads or the boss-to-be?

  ‘Are you missing the office?’ Amy asked. ‘I was surprised when Dad said you had walked out on him.’

  ‘Did he tell you that?’ She knew that Frank rang Amy more than she did although he rarely bothered to tell her when he did so. ‘I didn’t walk out on him. What a daft thing to say. I’ve been threatening to do it for ages so it came as no surprise.’ She laughed. ‘I might have been only going in a couple of times a week but I suddenly realized I was working twice as hard as everybody else. I was just paid a token wage because I needed to be on the books.’

  ‘I told you that was a mistake. You should have paid yourself a proper salary, Mum, otherwise you’re just fooling around with the figures.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Is Shirley still bossing everybody about? Dad’s allowed that woman to get too big for her boots and I was never that impressed with her. She forgets things.’

  ‘Your father likes her and she’s been there for ever.’ She had to put a stop to this conversation as it was always difficult to talk about Shirley. She didn’t really believe Frank was having an affair but it wasn’t for want of Shirley trying. She was one of those women who enter a room bosom first. ‘I’ll leave you to unpack, darling. C
ome down when you’re ready.’

  Now, some time later as she brought a pot of coffee and mince pies through to the drawing room, the flakes were becoming bolder and starting to lie.

  Perfect. It was Christmas Eve and most people would now be where they needed to be so travel disruption would be at a minimum. In any case, even though it was a selfish thought, her little family was safe so that was all that mattered.

  She looked happily around the room trying to visualize it through Brian’s eyes. It was difficult to achieve a cosy feel in a room this size and it was maybe a touch cluttered for the modern man but frankly she did not care. She loved it and that was all that mattered.

  ‘Look, it’s snowing,’ Amy said delightedly, turning to Brian who was sitting beside her on the sofa. ‘I love snow. One winter when we were little we made a snowman and it was so cold that he stayed out there for weeks.’

  ‘Days, sweetheart, don’t exaggerate.’ Frank was burrowing into the drinks cupboard. ‘We’ve got the lot here. Do you fancy a drink, Brian?’

  ‘I’m fine just now with coffee, thanks.’

  ‘Mike and Monique will be here soon,’ Christine said, settling herself down. Amy had commented on the tree, said it looked lovely and silvery, which had made Christine shoot Frank a triumphant look. The fire was lit with the log basket stacked high and now that all the Christmas food was bought in, sitting in the refrigerator and freezer, and the larder shelves were heaving with extra items, Christine could at last relax.

  She had a new flatteringly draped red dress for tomorrow and she had the silly hats ready for them to wear for the Christmas day meal although she was not sure about them, wondered if that little tradition should be dropped, especially with a newcomer at the table. Brian did not look as if he would be comfortable wearing a pirate’s hat.

  She tried to signal a warning to Frank across the room, wondered what his initial reaction to Brian had been for they had not been alone since his arrival, wondered also when the interrogation would start.