‘How happy are you and John, honestly,’ he coaxed.
‘I haven’t thought much about being happy until recently,’ she said. ‘John works hard and I see less of him than I’d like. It also means I have to see to everything and he’s never there when I need him. But besides the minutiae of the daily grind, I’ve begun to think that life should have something more than boring routine, and being hard up and pretending all is well. I thought that if I earned my own money and filled my time doing things I want to do, well, John would benefit too, wouldn’t he?’
‘I wouldn’t advise you not to use your talents, I believe we should use whatever gifts we have, but I do wish you’d think about doing something for yourself and not to please John. That’s where happiness lies, doing things for yourself, feeling fulfilled, and then your happiness spills over to the benefit of everyone close to you.’
She was aware of his hands over hers, smoothing her wrists, her lower arm and she wanted him to move further, to touch her body, make her feel alive as she hadn’t felt for a very long time. Their starters arrived and he moved his chair to allow the waitress room to get to the table and his leg pressed against hers and didn’t move away again. His hand returned to hers and he fondled it as though it was a most precious thing. His eyes stared into hers and her throat felt tight and she wondered if she would ever be able to eat.
‘I have something to show you, if you have time after we’ve eaten,’ he said as he picked up his fork and started on the melon.
‘I don’t know,’ she said, ‘The boys will be back from their swim and I like to be there when they get home.’
‘So caring,’ he smiled. ‘Come on, let’s eat and see if we have enough time. It’s a property I own with the cafe downstairs, and two rooms above that I don’t really use. You could fit one up as a kitchen and maybe make that dream of yours happen.’
‘No, I couldn’t work out of the home, not for a few years, until Justin is older. That’s why I thought making and decorating cakes would be a good start. I can do that in my own kitchen.’
‘Come and see the place,’ he whispered, ‘It will give you some ideas—’
‘Ideas about cooking?’ She quirked an elegant eyebrow.
‘We’ll cook something up, I’m certain.’
She hardly tasted the meal, unaware of the plates coming and going as they talked in double entendre throughout the hour they were there. The rest was inevitable. He flattered her and it was something of which she had been starved. He didn’t sound at all false to her, needing him so badly she heard what she wanted to hear, and he listened to her with such apparent interest, and admired the way she had thought out her ideas.
He told her she was highly intelligent and quite beautiful. He was considerate of her comfort and made sure she had everything she wanted while allowing her to talk, stopping her only to ask for a clearer explanation, being supportive of her ideas and plans. In a dream, she went with him to see the rooms he had described, only to find that one was furnished as a living-room, the other a bedroom.
He kissed her at once and she was so enamoured of his flattery and obvious attraction, she fell under the spell of him. He lifted her and carried her into the bedroom.
They met once or twice a week after that day, usually in the afternoon, mostly after lunch, sometimes before. They never met in town or anywhere near her home, except on one occasion when he was a guest at a dinner she attended with John.
John introduced them and Joanne found it hard not to laugh. ‘We’ve met before, haven’t we Dai? You came to dinner with us soon after Dolly and Carl were married. Don’t you remember, John?’
‘Sorry, I forgot,’ John said vaguely, he was already leaving them and heading for Christian and Cynthia, who had just walked in, bronzed after a week in Greece.
‘Any luck selling the house yet?‘ he asked Christian brightly.
* * *
‘You look happy,’ Helen said to Joanne one September morning, in Churchill’s Garden. ‘You and John had a making up or something?’
‘John and I haven’t quarrelled.’ Joanne said stiffly. ‘We never quarrel.’
‘Funny, I thought — never mind, I must have been mistaken.’
‘What have you heard?’ Joanne demanded and she caught a glimpse of Cynthia warning Helen to be quiet. ‘Tell me, Helen. What gossip have you picked up this week?’
‘Nothing, I thought you had separated or something.’
‘What on earth gave you that idea? You’ve seen me with another man, is that it? Well he’s advising me on the possibility of starting a business, that’s all.’
‘I haven’t seen you with another man, but I thought John must — have — sorry, I misunderstood.’
Irritated rather than alarmed, Joanne insisted on being told.
‘Well, I thought it was him, but I was probably mistaken, I don’t know John that well. A man put an advertisement in the shop window for a bicycle for a seven year old and he wanted a pink one.’
‘Really, Helen! Why would John want a pink bicycle? Justin is nearly thirteen and he certainly wouldn’t want a pink one!’ She turned to the others to share her derisive laughter and was startled by the sorrowing expression in Cynthia’s eyes.
‘Cynthia?’
‘Oh, sorry, Joanne, dear, I was just thinking of having to sell my lovely house,’ she extemporized. ‘A couple came to look at it yesterday and they seem very interested.’
The conversation drifted to buying and selling and Helen, fount of all knowledge said,
‘I heard the other day that your Evan and that Sophie Hopkins are thinking of selling. Nothing wrong with the houses on the cliff, is there, Cynthia?’
‘Of course not. And I’d prefer it if you don’t repeat stories that have no basis in fact!’
Joanne went home feeling relief that Helen hadn’t seen or heard about her meetings with Dai Collins. She felt guilty and decided that the affair had to end. She was shocked at the ease with which she had been persuaded to cheat on her husband. She was no better than Vivienne who went out to clubs looking for brief affairs, one night stands, and seemed unaffected by them. It was puzzling to imagine why John – if it were he — would buy a pink bicycle for a seven year old. He did see a lot of other women, most of his staff was female, and perhaps he was buying a present for one of them. Because he was mean with her and the boys it didn’t follow that he was mean with others, she thought bitterly.
* * *
Cynthia went home a little upset. She would have to stop the rumours about subsidence or the sale of the house would be an impossibility and Christian would lose the chance of his important deal.
‘Mrs Sewell! Thank goodness you’re back!’ Millie ran to meet her before the engine had been turned off and behind her the five boys were grouped around the door looking solemn.
‘What’s happened? Are the boys all right? Is Christian hurt?’
‘It’s this.’ Millie pointed to the step on the back porch, which had dropped by about fifteen centimetres.
Cynthia took out her mobile and began to dial Christian’s number.
‘I was in such a panic I couldn’t remember the number of your mobile, so I phoned him when I couldn’t reach you,’ Millie said. ‘He’s coming straight back.’
Calming herself, Cynthia looked again at the damage and standing up, said, ‘I don’t think we’re going to sink into the sea just yet, Millie. The concrete under the paves has crumbled, that’s all. Come on, boys, what about some lunch?’
‘There’s something else,’ Millie said. She went inside and in the hallway close to the front door, several of the floor tiles had cracked. One had sunk slightly in the centre.
‘There’s a hole in the field again too,’ Rupert told her.
Ken and Christian arrived within several minutes of each other. Together they examined each area of damage and spent a long time discussing the implications.
It was late that night before Ken went home, having listed the tests they needed
to carry out. Christian said to Cynthia, ‘We have to keep this as quiet as possible. If I have built an unstable structure, I won’t get that contract.’
‘Contract?’ Cynthia said curiously. ‘I thought you were the contractor, employing others?’
‘You know what I mean,’ he said uneasily.
‘Are you the owner of this project or are you hoping for the contract to do with work, Christian?’
He sat with his head in his hands. ‘All right, I should have told you, but I was worried by that land slip in the field. That’s why I thought we should sell.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘If I’d told you, you wouldn’t have agreed to my selling the house to some unsuspecting family until it was fixed, would you?’
‘We’ve always been honest.’
‘Until now, when the house we’ve spent so much money on building and improving could turn out to be worthless. Honesty isn’t so easy when you think you might lose everything.’
‘Ken knows?’
‘Yes.’
‘How long has Ken known there was something wrong?’ Cynthia asked.
‘Why? What does it matter?’
‘The boys saw him one day coming up from the beach covered in that red soil. Had he been down that old cave the boys discovered? Is that where the problem lies?’
‘It isn’t a cave, it’s a water course,’ Christian told her. ‘It’s no longer used. The stream has diverted to another place, taking away some earth occasionally. We had every test imaginable done before we built here. The old pipe has perished, there’s only a thin trickle of water seeping in occasionally and sometimes some soil slips. But these houses are built too far back to be affected. Damn it, Cynthia, this could cost me that contract and the sale of this house. We’d be finished.’
‘What did Ken find when he went down there?’
‘I don’t know. He didn’t even mention it to me.’
‘He ran away when he saw the boys, or so they told me, and at the time I wondered why. If he wasn’t investigating on your behalf, what was he doing? Why did he run when he saw the boys? And why didn’t he tell you?’
‘He probably didn’t see them. And don’t start putting more mysteries in my lap. I’ve enough to deal with, love.’
‘I think it was Ken who knocked Meriel over that day a few months’ ago when she went to Evan and Sophie’s to clean up. What was he doing, pretending not to see her as well as not seeing the boys? He knocked her over. He could hardly say he didn’t notice her.’
They decided to set tests in motion, getting one of the civil engineers who did the original tests to come in. ‘But don’t let’s do anything for a few days,’ Christian said. ‘Keep it quiet, if we can, ask Millie and the boys not to discuss it, give me time to make a few enquiries of my own.’
‘Our boys will agree but what about Jeremy and Justin? They’d find it hard not to tell Joanne and John.‘
‘Promise them something, a party, a trip to Ilfracombe on the ferry, anything, but keep them quiet for a few days.’ Unaware they were too late, Cynthia agreed.
They went to bed that night too distressed to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms seeking comfort. Remembering his partner’s enjoyment of gambling, and his desire to visit his family in America, Christian wondered whether a mild excitement had become an addiction. A man with serious debts was capable of anything. When he finally slept it was Ken and his daughters who peopled Christian’s dreams. He said nothing of his suspicions to his wife.
* * *
Meriel and Cath took a table in an Antiques Fair early in September. They had amassed enough good quality items to fill a stall and hoped to cover the cost of the rent and make a profit to help towards the purchase of a shop. They had decided that Cath would continue to live in the chalet until she was ready to cope with sharing.
Still needing time on her own, subject to moods that isolated her, Cath was not an easy person to know, but Meriel hoped that she would gradually learn to trust her.
Looking at properties, she was always looking for a place in which Cath could have privacy, and one she had seen just a week before the Antiques Fair looked a strong possibility.
One of the upstairs rooms had once been used as a bedsit and contained a small kitchen and a shower besides a single room which served as living room and bedroom. There were two other rooms besides, plus a larger kitchen and bathroom. Downstairs, behind the double-fronted shop was a store area and a yard with a building large enough to be used as a workroom for cleaning and painting and polishing.
In great excitement, Meriel arranged an appointment to see it after the fair ended at seven o’clock.
‘You’ll love it,’ she told Cath. ‘There’s a complete bedsit, perfect for you if you want it one day. We can use it as an extra store until you’re ready to move in, but I think you’ll move sooner than you planned once you’ve seen it. There’s even a view of the sea!’
With some trepidation they set up their stall. Meriel had sold her car and bought a transit van so they could transport the larger pieces and the marble-topped washstand with its pretty mirror and ornately carved drawers looked impressive as a centrepiece. They had several country chairs and stools and two dark oak bedside cupboards. They had chamber pots displayed in them as they stood with the doors open, to demonstrate their original purpose in the years before inside lavatories became commonplace.
Before lunchtime they had sold three tables, two stools and the two bedside cupboards. They were debating whether to accept a lower price on the marble-topped washstand when Cath announced she was hungry and went to find them some tea and sandwiches.
Meriel stood looking at the crowd, excited by being a part of this interesting business. She had begun to recognize some of the traders, and exchanged a few words with one standing near, when a man came up and asked the price of one of the rather primitive stools. They haggled amiably for a while and he eventually bought it. Writing out a cheque he asked,
‘Will it be all right if I leave it here while I continue looking around? I might even have some lunch.’
Marking it with a ‘sold’ notice, and adding his name, Mike Thorpe, she chatted for a while before he left to examine the rest of the stalls.
It was while she and Cath were eating their snack that he returned. Cath had her back to him so she didn’t see him until they were close.
‘Cath?’ he said curiously. ‘Where have you been, we’ve all been desperately worried.’
To Meriel’s alarm, Cath dropped her drink and shot off without a word. She ran from the room, followed by Mike Thorpe and, more slowly, by a frightened Meriel. Pushing her way through the arrivals they saw her heading for the van. Mike tried to head her off but ignoring the no exit signs, she drove out through the entrance to avoid him, ignoring or unaware of the hooting of irate motorists and car park attendants.
‘I hope she comes back,’ Meriel said breathlessly. ‘I don’t think I could carry a washstand back to Abertrochi!’
‘Is that where she lives?’ Mike Thorpe asked.
Some caution stopped her answering. ‘I don’t think I should give you her address without her agreement,’ she said.
‘I understand. But will you take my address and give it to her? Her family are very worried about her.’
She took the card he handed to her and walked back. Worried about her friend as she was, the first worry was how to get home.
She returned to the stall to find one of the other stall holders clearing up the spilt tea and broken china. She didn’t notice that Mike Thorpe had followed her.
‘I’ll wait if you like, I have a large car and I should be able to get most of this inside.’
‘I don’t want to lead you to Cath,’ she said at once, aware of how ungrateful she sounded. She had already told him she lived in Abertrochi so there was nothing to lose. ‘But, yes,’ she added with a smile, ‘I would be very grateful for your help. Thank you.’
‘I don’t wish her any harm
,’ Mike said as they struggled to get the last of the small furniture pieces into his car.
‘I’m sure you don’t, but Cath must have her reasons for not wanting to see you and as her friend, I have to respect them.’
‘I’m her brother,’ he said quietly. ‘She ran away after a tragedy, about three years ago and we’ve never been able to find her.’
‘What happened?’ Meriel asked.
‘Perhaps this is something on which I must remain silent. You’re her friend, so if she hasn’t told you, then perhaps I should respect her silence too?’
‘Sorry,’ she replied. ‘I didn’t mean to sound pompous. But Cath is so easily upset and she doesn’t trust anyone. I said we’re friends and I believe that. We’re considering starting a business together but I don’t feel secure about her working with me. I just hope that in time she will learn to accept my friendship. Whatever is bothering her, I have a feeling that it will be eased once she begins talking about it.’
‘Some things are so painful that talking about them is rubbing salt into a wound.’
Mike chatted easily on the journey back to Abertrochi and, after helping Meriel to unload the furniture, agreed to stay for coffee.
In fact, Meriel had hoped he would refuse the automatic politeness. She wanted to go and find Cath.
‘If Cathy doesn’t re-emerge, give me a ring and I’ll help with transport when I can,’ he promised. She thanked him, although suspicious that he only wanted an excuse to call in the hope of finding Cath – or Cathy as he called her.
It was after nine o’clock before he finally left. She stood at the doorway watching as he turned the car and headed back to town. Waiting only a few minutes, she collected the dogs and a torch and set off on the long walk up to the chalet, where she expected to see the van and find Cath. It was time for some explanations.
It was dark when she reached the chalet and, although the others in the row were clearly occupied, and issuing the garish lights and discordant sounds of a television programme, the one at the end, tucked into the rock, was dark and silent. There was no sign of the van and, shining a torch through a window she had the impression that the place was more than unoccupied, it had that indescribable look of being abandoned.
Friends and Secrets Page 18
