‘Evan!’ she shouted and was gratified at the suddenness of his wakening. ‘How did you get in!’
Recovering afier a few seconds of confusion, he said, ‘Sorry darling. I must have fallen asleep. I was waiting for you and it was uncomfortable sitting on the back porch so I came through the back door.’
‘It was locked.’
‘No, you must have forgotten.’
Her response was to hold out her hand, into which he slowly placed a back door key.
‘Do you have any more?’ she demanded.
‘None, I promise.’
‘You promised once before I seem to remember.’
‘I really don’t have another key. I forgot that one when I handed over the others and, well, it was in my pocket so I used it.’ He seemed unconcerned by her anger, continuing to chat as though the occasion was a regular one. ‘See any of your friends in Churchill’s Garden?’ he asked.
‘I’ve decided it’s time to sell this house and move on, away from you and your partner. I realize I should have moved a long time ago.’
‘There’s no need.’ Evan said. ‘There’s plenty of time. You wouldn’t like to move too far away from Cynthia and Joanne, and the rest of your friends, would you? Best we wait until you’re sure what you want to do.’
‘What about you, don’t you want to sell and fully commit yourself to Sophie? Marry her? Say goodbye to this place?’
Ignoring her questions he said, ‘Look, I’ll make a cup of tea and we’ll discuss what’s best for you shall we?’
‘No!’
‘Or what about a bit of lunch? Do you have any goats’ cheese? Sophie never buys it and I love it with a bit of salad. Greek style. Remember Crete, darling?’ He went into the kitchen and opened the fridge.
Meriel didn’t know what to say. Was this a sign that he wanted to come home? Was he trying to pretend he could step back through the door and carry on as though the past eighteen months hadn’t happened?
Suddenly wearied by trying to deal with it she sat at the table and watched in a bemused way as Evan prepared a salad with feta cheese and olives, the way they both liked it, with his favourite salad dressing which she still used. He took crisp bread rolls out of the shopping basket she had brought in, broke them open and filled them with butter, then announced that lunch was served. Like an automaton, she allowed him to help her off with her coat and sit beside him at the small kitchen table.
* * *
Meriel and Cath were aware that besides selling, they had to buy, and collecting a few items at car boot sales and spotting one or two table top bargains was not enough. That summer they decided to try their hand at an auction.
‘Nothing heavy,’ Meriel promised a doubtful Cath. ‘A house clearance for a start. Small things until we know what we’re doing.’
‘Will we ever?’ Cath sighed.
At first they were taken aback by the speed at which the auctioneer went from ‘who’ll start me off at?’ to ‘sold’ on the items he was selling.
‘He didn’t even look at us!’ Meriel said. And they began to laugh nervously. A set of shelves they wanted, was sold for less than they had decided to pay, simply because they hesitated too long before getting into the bidding. ‘That hammer comes down faster than I can think!’ Cath moaned.
‘Right! From now on I mean business!’ Meriel said with greater confidence than she felt.
By the end of that first auction they had managed to buy a fifties vase, some cutlery, a box of oddments and two pieces of carnival glass. Both were convinced they had paid too much for them all.
* * *
‘My Henrietta is coming to me to celebrate her birthday! What d’you think of that, choosing me and Reggie instead of Gareth and her step-mother for her special day. Good, eh?’ Helen said when they were drinking coffee in Churchill’s Garden one morning in late June. ‘My Reggie and I want her to have a really good time. Any ideas about where we can take her?’
‘If she’s like most sixteen year olds, she won’t want to be taken anywhere!’ Vivienne said. ‘Give her plenty of money so she can go shopping and have an evening out with her friends. That’s the way to please a sixteen year old!’
They all laughed and Cynthia said, ‘The twins are sixteen in two weeks’ time and they’ll be having a party. The last party in the house, so make sure Henri is free for that, Rupert and Oliver want her to come. Your boys too,’ she said, turning to Joanne.
The conversation left Meriel free to think about the visit from Evan and the way he made himself at home in the house where he had lived until Sophie had entered their lives and ruined everything. She had made up her mind during that night, as she had sat in bed, pretending to read, trying to sleep, and she announced her decision to her friends.
‘I’m selling the house and moving away, probably into the town,’ she said.
Everyone congratulated her on finally coming to her senses.
‘I’m not looking for a house,’ Meriel continued, glancing at Cath who had joined them. ‘I want a shop with a flat above.
‘What? You want to live above a shop?’ Joanne gasped.
‘Cath and I plan to start a small business selling both antiques and collectables and, while we learn the business, a section selling more modern second-hand items.’
‘You’re going into business? In a shop?’ Joanne made it sound like a toxic bath.
‘Like you were when you discussed the possibility of cake decoration,’ Meriel frowned. ‘What’s wrong with starting a business?‘
‘Nothing I suppose, but as John pointed out, it changes your life so you don’t have a spare moment, and makes every friendly gesture harden into a business deal.’
‘You think I wouldn’t have any friends?’
‘Of course you would, but things are bound to change, aren’t they? We’ll always be there for you though,’ she breathed.
‘So you won’t be advertising for catering work?’ Cath said quietly.
‘John doesn’t think it’s a good idea.’ Joanne spoke in a clipped manner that made it clear that the subject was closed.
‘Why are you and Cynthia both selling your houses now?’ Vivienne asked. ‘No trouble in the area, is there?’
Meriel looked away, alarmed, as Cynthia quickly — too quickly — asked if anyone wanted more coffee.
* * *
Late one night, Justin got out of bed and went to the window, he had been disturbed by needing the toilet, then, as he felt around for the bedside lamp, he heard a sound outside of a car door closing.
It was difficult to see clearly as there was only a sliver of a moon, but he could make out two shapes near his mother’s Fiat and he quickly ran into his brother’s room and woke him.
‘Is it Rupert?’ Jeremy asked, as soon as he woke. ‘I didn’t hear him call.’
‘I don’t think he did,’ Justin said. ‘I think he’s going without us and he has that Henrietta girl with him.’
Jeremy leapt out of bed and grabbed his jeans, hopping about as he pulled them on.
‘Quick, find my shoes! Where’s my sweater!’ Laces threatened to trip him up as he slithered down the stairs trying to hurry, trying not to wake his parents. He was through the back door with Justin, still in pyjamas, close behind him. A large shadowy shape was moving away from the house; the Fiat was being driven away and although he ran after it, Jeremy failed to catch up with it before it disappeared around the corner at the end of the long drive.
‘Why d’you think he didn’t wait for us?’ Justin asked, reaching for the biscuit tin.
‘He’s got a damned cheek. It’s our mother’s car. Why doesn’t he use one of their cars?’
‘Too big and noticeable I suppose,’ Justin said. ‘Shall we have some hot chocolate?’
The following morning they woke early and went out to where the car was usually parked. It wasn’t there.
‘Best we say nothing, pretend we haven’t noticed,’ Jeremy said.
They ate breakfast and announced t
hat they were going to see Rupert and Oliver and Marcus.
‘Tell Cynthia I’ll call in this afternoon, to discuss what I’m to make for the twins’ party,’ Joanne said as she popped some pale slices back into the toaster for John, who liked it well done.
‘You aren’t doing this as a business deal I hope?’ John asked. ‘You know how I feel about you working. I see enough of women cooks during the day without coming home to the chaos of you making cakes.’
‘Where will you be today, John,’ she asked, ignoring his remarks as she refilled his coffee cup.
‘Doing the afternoon shift at the all-day-breakfast in town,’ he said. ‘One of the girls is off sick and another is new so won’t be able to cope without help.’
‘So you’ll be home for dinner?’
‘No, I don’t think so, in fact, I might not be back until late tomorrow.’
She didn’t ask why and he didn’t offer any further explanation. She had arranged to meet Dai Collins at one o’clock and they were going to have drinks in a small village about eight miles away and discuss the possibilities of her starting a business. Smiling at John she breathed, ‘You work so hard for us, darling.’
Going out to get in the car, she was so surprised to find it wasn’t there, that for a second she stood there holding out the key as though it would miraculously reappear. Then she saw Justin and Jeremy running towards her.
‘Mummy, your car. It’s stuck over in the field near the path,’ Justin called as he and his brother ran towards her.
‘Where’s Dad,’ Jeremy said, ‘He’ll need to help get it out.’
John wasn’t pleased to hear of the delay but walked across the rough ground towards the car, telling Joanne that she must have been careless. ‘You forgot to lock it. Even though it’s close to the house, you have to make sure it’s locked.’
Joanne said nothing. She was certain she had turned the key, but until they made sure, she didn’t want to argue. When they reached the vehicle it had been securely locked and when she opened it and got inside, the reason for its abandonment was clear. It had run out of petrol.
‘John,’ she said out of the boys’ hearing. ‘I think the car has been used once or twice before, and returned to its usual place.’
‘And you didn’t tell me? Or report it to the police? Good heavens, woman, it might have been used for a robbery! Why don’t you make sure you lock it? Why are you so stupid?’
‘I do make sure it’s locked. I thought you had borrowed it.’
‘Without telling you?’
He began walking back to the house, Joanne following close behind, wondering whether to say anything more about the unexplained mileage, or remain silent. She hated being called stupid. It was the one criticism that angered her more than any other.
Taking a petrol can from the boot of his car, he returned to the Fiat without another word. That he was angry was clear from the tight lips and the frown around his eyes. The boys had waited for them and were ready to push the car from its muddy resting place.
‘Don’t push it, Justin, you could strain yourself,’ Joanne said, preparing to push beside Jeremy.
‘I could steer it, Dad,’ Justin suggested, ‘I’m the lightest. Then you could push with Mummy.’
The car moved easily out of the mud and Justin steered it successfully on to the road. ‘Can you show me how to drive it to the house, Dad?’ he asked hopefully. ‘I know what to do.’
John laughed. ‘As soon as you’re old enough and show me you have enough common sense, then you’ll learn to drive, I promise,’ he smiled.
‘Fool! You could have given the game away!’ Jeremy hissed when they were once more walking towards the Sewells’ house.
‘No I wouldn’t. I watch Mam often enough, don’t I? I didn’t need you to show me.’
Justin and Marcus complained about the older boy’s attitude when they were alone.
‘It isn’t fair,’ Justin moaned.
Marcus tutted in sympathy. ‘Big brothers, eh?’
Justin went on complaining, but the ever cheerful Marcus whistled as he went into the kitchen, lifted a bunch of keys from their hook and opened his father’s large BMW.
A few minutes experimenting and giggling then the car burst noisily into life and rolled backwards, off the hard-standing, and shot straight across lawns and flower beds and into the bottom hedge, beyond which was the field and then the cliff path and a drop to the beach below.
‘Lucky for you the hedge was there,’ was Christian’s only comment when he was called for help, ‘Or we’d be scraping you two off the rocks!’
Wandering back from a walk on the sand towards lunch, the five boys saw a man in the distance and Rupert recognized his father’s partner, Ken.
‘Uncle Ken,’ he called and, as an aside, told the others that, ‘Uncle Ken’s usually good for a couple of pounds to buy a can or some ice-cream. Uncle Ken,’ he called again as he ran to catch up with him, with the others in a gaggle following on.
To his surprise, the man turned, saw them, then ran off.
As he slowed to a stop, Rupert said, ‘That’s funny. I’m sure it was Uncle Ken and he was covered in streaks of that red mud.’
Ken ran as fast as he could along the path, trying to think of an excuse for when he next saw the Sewell boys.
Meriel was leaving the house with the dogs, intending to walk to the next beach and buy a snack from one of the cafes and sit on the rocks for a while. She had a book in her hand and as she was looking at it, making sure she had marked her page, the figure suddenly appeared and knocked her flying into the bushes alongside the path.
She was scratched by the brambles and her hand sank into a muddy patch near where a small stream ran. Her clothes were torn and filthy and she felt the unmistakable trickling of blood down her face. She called the dogs and began to retreat back to the house. She was trembling with the shock of it and leaned on an old fence post to recover.
‘Meriel?’ She looked up to see Evan running towards her across the field and as she saw the concern on his face, she burst into tears.
He helped her across the rough ground of the field, to the back of his house. Sophie was standing in the kitchen, something — but not concern — making her frown.
‘Some idiot of a jogger knocked her down and didn’t stop to see if she was harmed,’ Evan explained as he gathered a bowl of warm water and cotton wool and took down a first aid box from a kitchen cupboard.
He bathed her face and Sophie made some tea and rather reluctantly offered her some clothes to wear home.
‘It’s all right.’ Meriel assured her. ‘It isn’t far.’
‘It will be soon,’ Sophie said, looking at her curiously. ‘Evan tells me you’re moving.’
‘Yes, and the Sewells have put their house on the market so you’ll have new neighbours.’
‘The Sewells? I thought they were happy there?’ Evan said in surprise.
‘Cynthia said something about having to release all their assets so Christian can build these manorial halls or whatever they call them,’ Meriel joked. ‘So grand they have to put every penny they own to get them built, it seems.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Evan frowned. ‘That can’t be the reason for selling. His firm is up for the contract to build them, it isn’t his project. He won’t have to lay out the money, The firm he will be building them for will pay him for his work.’
‘Evan, if they’re selling, I think we should too,’ Sophie said. ‘I’ve always said we’re too near the edge of the cliffs.’
Meriel thought of the subsidence on the field and the red soil slipping down on to the beach, and the changing appearance of the stream and could hardly disagree.
Ten
Joanne’s boys were at the Sewells’ house, their regular venue during these summer holidays, and so Joanne felt no qualms at having arranged to meet Dai Collins for lunch, one day at the beginning of August. Jeremy and Justin had taken a picnic and planned to swim at the local beach. The we
ather was far from ideal, but the five boys took pride in bathing in the rain, when only dog walkers and occasionally surfers were there to keep them company.
Dai took her to a popular eating place called The Boar Inn, in a village about eight miles from home. He didn’t call for her but arranged to meet her at the Inn at twelve o’clock. She sat in the car waiting for him, having arrived early, feeling rather self-conscious, hoping that no one she knew would see her and expect an explanation of why she was there. A village pub would not have been John’s choice for lunch.
Dai pulled up beside her in his open sports car, leapt out and opened the door for her, touching her face, looking into her eyes with a hunger of longing. His obvious delight at seeing her was flattering and very exciting. Taking her hand he led her into the restaurant looking into her eyes with an expression that suggested love and desire. Her legs weakened making a chair a necessity.
‘I’ve thought of this meeting to the exclusion of everything else,’ he whispered as the waitress took their coats.
‘So have I,’ Joanne breathed. They both knew their relationship was going to take a big step forward today. They had met for drinks once or twice, but this was their first meal together.
The room looked full but they were given a corner table from where they could see the room but were not easily observed.
From the excellent selection offered they chose grilled Welsh salmon, and sat apparently relaxed, but both unable to open a conversation as though a shyness had overcome them. The conversation gradually opened up, first about the venue and then developed into questions and answers about each other. The place filled up as they talked but they were so wrapped up in their conversation, they hardly noticed.
Joanne told him about her disappointment when John had told her not to start making cakes. ‘He doesn’t mind me doing it for friends, but he won’t help me start a business. I did well before we married you know. I specialized in desserts: Tiramisu, gateaux and I made a pavlova you’d die for.’
Friends and Secrets Page 17
