‘Oh, I don’t know. Train of thoughts perhaps. I was thinking it was hot and sunny like this when she died. I suppose it must be coming up to the anniversary. Ten whole years, who’d have thought it?’ Evangeline forced a mournful sigh and hoped that she’d lied convincingly. Fortunately Tom had interpreted her current mood as a ‘no’ and decided to return to the office.
Overcome with a rare sense of guilt, Evangeline had followed her husband downstairs. ‘Tom,’ she called as he opened the front door. ‘Tonight, perhaps we can tonight...? Have an early night, I mean. It will probably be a lot cooler.’
Pausing on the threshold, Tom bent down and kissed her affectionately on the cheek. ‘Yes, why not... You’re right, it probably will.’
For the moment however, Evangeline felt anything but cool as she brushed her hair and sprayed yet more perfume on her throat and breasts. Inside she was burning. Burning with desire for Max Craven and he would be here in less than an hour! Filled with a sudden flash of inspiration, Evangeline changed her clothes and hurried to the spare bedroom.
*
‘Max! How lovely to see you and punctual to the minute. Do come in.’
‘I don’t believe in being late for appointments, Evangeline,’ said Max coolly, following her into the hallway of The Firs, with its mock marble pillars and recesses, housing an array of bone china ornaments and glass.
‘Glass of wine?’ Evangeline called, walking through to the designer kitchen. ‘Tom opened a very nice bottle of Sauvignon Blanc this lunchtime.’
‘No, thanks, I prefer not to drink in the afternoons, particularly if I’m driving.’
Evangeline looked disappointed but saw no reason why she shouldn’t have another glass herself. ‘Come and sit in the lounge, then,’ she urged, following her pre-arranged plan. ‘You must see our latest acquisition. Tom’s bought me one of those new ultra-wide-screen televisions. It’s simply wonderful and just like having your own cinema.’
And it quite easily could be! Max thought to himself, coming face to face with the hideous monstrosity that appeared to take up a third of the room. Along with Evangeline’s disastrous purchases of every colour imaginable, trimmed with lace, braid and tassels - Max thought the room resembled one of the old-fashioned cinemas he’d visited as a child. Only the usherette with her tray of choc-ices and drinks was missing! Out of the corner of his eye, Max spied Evangeline’s collection CDs, box sets and chocolates. There was even an enormous tub of popcorn! Seeing him smile, Evangeline took it as approval.
‘It’s good isn’t it?’ she said. ‘You must tell me what sort of films you like and come over one evening.’
‘Oh, I haven’t been to the cinema for years. I don’t have time. Actually, I’m more into music.’ Max replied, moving back towards the door.
‘Never mind. Perhaps I can find you a nice musical, instead. Do come and sit down.’
Ignoring the offer to join her on the heavily fringed settee, Max studied his watch. ‘If you don’t mind, Evangeline, I’d rather see Alison’s handiwork now, if it’s all right with you. I promised Constance I would take her to the wholesalers to get some things for the fete.’
Deeply disappointed, Evangeline wandered back into the kitchen with her glass. ‘You’re sure about the wine?’ she asked, studying the almost empty bottle.
Max shook his head and watched Evangeline drain the remains of the wine into her glass with an, ‘oh-well-might-as-well-finish-it-it’s-pointless-putting-that-little-drop-back.’ He then proceeded to follow her as she led the way upstairs.
Grasping the gold and white china door-handle, Evangeline’s spirits rose. She’d been waiting for this moment since the night of Connie’s dinner party. OK, so she hadn’t been able to get Max into the right frame of mind downstairs and it was a pity he’d refused a drink, but...
‘Right, here we are then the Carstairs’ spare bedroom a la Alison Benedict. Shut your eyes, Max, while I open the door. That way you’ll get more of the impact.’
‘I don’t think that will be necessary, Evangeline. I’m hardly a child waiting for Father Christmas.’
No, you’re not. You’re most definitely not! Evangeline told herself, eyeing Max appreciatively from top to toe. But has this Mother Christmas got something special lined up for you!
Despite his protestations, Max was forced to close his eyes while Evangeline opened the door of the spare bedroom with one hand and undid the top buttons of her blouse, exposing yet more cleavage, with the other.
‘Right… you can look now!’
Nothing could have prepared Max for the shock when he opened his eyes, particularly taking into account the interior decor of the rooms downstairs: reminiscent of a bordello, ornate Victorian parlour and film set from a Carry On film all rolled into one - ‘Nile’ or ‘Kyber’, Max couldn’t remember, he’d been at school when he’d seen them…
‘Well, what do you think?’ Evangeline asked eagerly. ‘I know it’s plain and perhaps not quite what I would have chosen myself initially but I am getting used to it now. I was even thinking of asking Alison to do my bedroom next. Tom adores this of course, mind you he always did say he preferred simple things.’
In response to this last statement, Max refrained from repeating what was going through his mind. Instead he turned his attention to the tastefully simple and uncluttered design of the room.
‘Primroses.’ Evangeline declared.
‘Primroses?’
‘Yes, primroses. Alison asked me what flowers I liked. I gave her a list of all the exotic ones first. Orchids and lilies and those big amar-wotsit-things. You know, the ones you get as Christmas presents, but she asked me to suggest something simpler and I thought of the banks of primroses we get along the lane in the spring.’
‘Mmm, I see,’ Max said thoughtfully, looking about the room at the delicate shades of primrose yellow and green, complete with hand-painted frieze, toning upholstery and unobtrusive furniture.
Evangeline waited expectantly. ‘What do you think of the furniture? I bet you’re beginning to wonder where the bed is.’
‘I hadn’t,’ Max replied - he’d been too busy studying all the minor details - ‘but now you come to mention it….’
Max’s dark eyes flashed quickly about the room until they alighted on a range of pale ash, fitted furniture. ‘Let me guess,’ he said. ‘One of those is a wardrobe and the other a bed?’
Trying not to show her disappointment, Evangeline walked over to the wall, released a lever and planned her next move.
With the bed secured in position, she motioned Max to sit down.
‘Go on,’ she insisted, ‘try it. Funny really, I always thought these fold away beds would be uncomfortable, but they’re not. Tom’s brother and his wife said they hadn’t slept so well for weeks and during the day, when the bed was folded back, it made an ideal playroom for their two kiddies. I didn’t really want them leaving their toys all over the house, you know.’
Ignoring Evangeline’s chatter, Max sat down on the edge of the bed, deciding from this level he was able to take a far better look at the primroses Alison had painted so beautifully.
‘I’m right, aren’t I?’
‘Pardon?’
‘Right about the bed. It is comfortable?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Max replied as Evangeline sat down by his side.
‘But you haven’t tried it properly yet! You know what they say when you go to buy a bed. You have to lie down on it and put your feet up for a bit. Here, let me take your shoes off for you. I can’t have you putting your shoes, lovely as they are, on my nice clean covers - can I?’
‘Evangeline!’ Max remonstrated. ‘I came here merely to look at the interior design. Not because I wanted to buy or even try a bed!’
Refusing to take any notice, Evangeline ignored his remarks and tugging at Max’s shoes, lifted his legs onto the bed. Whereby she quickly kicked off her high-heeled mules and joined him.
‘There,’ she cooed, running her hands down his shirt fr
ont towards the waistband of his trousers, ‘isn’t that better? You can really get the feel of things now, can’t you?’
Pushing her arm away, Max said angrily. ‘I don’t want to get the feel of things, thank you Evangeline!’
‘Why? There’s no harm in it, is there? I was a very good friend to Virginia; why can’t I be your friend too? I expect you must miss her as it’s been ten long years... and you must get very lonely. When you come to think of it, although I was older than Virginia, we had so much in common. We were so close, you know, a bit like your daughter Tara and Alison in a way. Now, isn’t that strange, I’ve never even thought of it like that before.’
At the mention of his wife and daughter, Max rose abruptly from the bed. Evangeline immediately made a grab for his left hand and began stroking his scar. ‘Poor Max,’ she whispered. ‘Won’t you even let me make it better? Virginia wouldn’t have minded. She was a great one for sharing things…’
‘What on earth are you implying?’ Max snapped. ‘Virginia and I never went in for wife-swapping if that’s what you’re getting at!’
With Evangeline realizing her well-laid plans hadn’t gone as smoothly as she’d hoped, and the lunchtime wine beginning to take effect, she let go of Max’s hand and rolled on to her stomach. Gazing at him through lashes heavily laden with mascara, she watched him retrieve his shoes and make his way to the bedroom door.
‘Who said I was talking about wife swapping? I never mentioned wife swapping,’ she called.’
‘Well, I certainly didn’t do the rounds with my neighbours’ wives, if that’s what you’re suggesting, Evangeline!’
‘Of course not,’ she purred sarcastically, ‘you were the ever-faithful Max, working away in London for your beautiful wife and your pretty little daughter, so you could give them everything they wanted.’
‘Yes, I did, and Virginia certainly never complained about the long hours I had to put in.’
‘Not to you perhaps…’ came the sardonic reply.
‘And just what the hell do you mean by that!’
When Max turned and made a grab for Evangeline’s wrist, she began to panic. Not only had she never seen Max so angry, but also she suddenly realized she’d gone way too far and was now completely out of her depth.
‘You’re hurting my wrist, Max. Let go or I’ll scream!’
Ignoring the fact that it could be deeply embarrassing if someone was to come in and find them alone together in the bedroom, Max ignored her plea. ‘You can scream all you damn well like, Evangeline, but I’m not letting you go until you finish what you were going to say…’
‘All right. I’ll tell you! It’s about time you knew anyway.’
‘Knew what, exactly?’
‘That your precious Virginia had a lover!’
‘A lover! I don’t believe you! You bitch... you’re lying!’
‘I wish I was, Max, believe me I wish I was...
‘But she swore she loved me.’ Max said in a daze. ‘Every time I came home and we...’ He stopped short; he had no intention of discussing shared intimacies with his wife. Not here, and most definitely not with Evangeline.
‘Oh, yes, Virginia loved you all right, but you were hardly ever there, Max, and she often told me how she found life in Church Haywood boring. That’s why she took a lover.’
Blinded by hurt and anger, and with Evangeline’s words still ringing in his ears, Max paused to look at the pathetic woman sitting in a crumpled heap upon the bed. With her blouse all unbuttoned, mascara smudged eyes and hair in complete disarray, there was only one more question that he needed to ask.
‘Then before I go, Evangeline, as you seem so intent on ruining my wife’s reputation, perhaps you’d care to enlighten me…’
‘Enlighten you? I don’t understand.’
‘Oh, I think you do. After the damage you’ve caused, you can at least give me the name of Virginia’s … lover.’
‘I can’t... because I never knew it,’ Evangeline lied, frightened by the ominous look in Max’s eyes. Anxious to change the subject she added quickly. ‘Anyway she never saw him again after Tara’s accident.’
Chapter 8
With Evangeline’s words still ringing in his ears, Max swung the Saab to an abrupt halt. The car’s front bumper nudged the twisted, gnarled trunk of the wisteria.
‘Max!’ Connie called in alarm. ‘This is Haywood Grange not the Silverstone Circuit! That wisteria has been there for the best part of sixty years and I’d like it to remain there if you don’t mind! Max... Is there anything wrong?’
Connie studied her brother’s sombre appearance. His furrowed brow and eyes almost black with anger. ‘Max? Everything’s all right isn’t it? Oh! Don’t tell me… Bill Jessop hasn’t changed his mind about selling the Stables, has he… when you’ve had such wonderful ideas for the place?’
‘No, Constance, it’s not Bill Jessop. It’s that damned woman Evangeline! Do you know what she...?’ Max paused. How should he continue? With what Evangeline did, or what she said? Either way he felt sickened by the events of the past half-hour. It was bad enough being pinioned to the bed by her, yet it was far worse hearing her accuse his wife of being a whore. OK, so Evangeline hadn’t exactly used the word, but in Max’s eyes, she might as well have done. Having witnessed Evangeline’s little display and knowing she and Virginia had been the best of friends... didn’t that make them two of a kind?
Checking to see she had her shopping list for the wholesaler’s, Connie watched in silence as Max removed his jacket and threw it across the back seat of the car. ‘I take it Evangeline was on form, then,’ she added brightly, getting into the front passenger seat.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Max snapped, icily.
Connie sighed. ‘My dear Max, I suspect she probably made a pass at you. Poor Evangeline. The trouble with her is that she’s never been able to resist a good-looking male. Even though you’re my brother, and some would argue that makes my opinion extremely biased, I would go as far as saying that you are an exceptionally good looking specimen of homo sapiens.’
If Connie was expecting a flicker of a smile to surface on Max’s face, she was very much mistaken. He remained tight-lipped and stony-faced and uttered not a word. Digging Max playfully in the ribs, she continued, ‘Come along, don’t take any notice of Evangeline. Tom knows all about her little peccadillos... he also knows she’s extremely harmless.’
Harmless? Harmless! Max wanted to shout. Telling someone about their wife’s infidelity, hardly fell into the category of harmless. Yet, close as he was to his sister, it was not a topic he felt inclined to discuss.
Driving to the wholesaler’s in silence, Max allowed his mind to concentrate on finding the new, out-of-town industrial development. Connie meanwhile, found herself going over her recent conversation with Bunty. Somehow or other she must broach the subject of Alison and the accident again.
Pushing the cavernous blue trolley through the automatic doors of the warehouse, Max followed Connie to the desk. There she signed in and was given a clipboard which she hooked onto the rim of the handle Max was holding.
‘I’m afraid this is all going to be a bit boring for you, Max. I need to find some suitable things for the tombola and kiddies toys for the bran tub. I’ll be as quick as I can.’
Connie studied her list and with Max in gentle pursuit, set off for kitchenware. ‘Glasses and fruit dishes,’ she said, lifting a set of both from the shelf. ‘They’re normally quite a good draw for ticket sales.’
Max said nothing and studied the inner depths of the trolley. Something about it seemed strangely familiar, which for the moment escaped him.
Sidetracked by an array of garden furniture, Connie stopped thoughtfully. ‘You know we really could do with some new garden furniture but it’s far too late in the season now. Perhaps next year. To be honest I’m surprised it’s still on display. They normally start putting the Christmas decorations out now.’
‘Christmas!’ gasped Max, ‘but
it’s only August!’
‘Exactly brother dear and if you’re in business, time to plan for the festive season. After this weekend’s fete, the committee will start planning the harvest supper. Next on the agenda will be Christmas.’
Max groaned and turned into the next aisle, where, horror of horrors, he saw a young assistant with her arms draped with tinsel. Hurrying away, he moved towards the toys. Wasn’t that the next thing on Connie’s list?
Watching her fill the trolley with inexpensive novelties for both sexes, Max pondered the question of the bran tub.
‘Constance, if the toys are all wrapped up, what happens if a girl picks out a boy’s toy or vice versa?’
‘Quite simply because we have two tubs. One for the boys and one for the girls. That way there’s no mistakes and no tears. Which reminds me I’d better buy some wrapping paper, blue for the boys and pink for the girls.’
‘How very conventional,’
‘What would you have me do, then, Max, pink for the boys and blue for the girls? If you were a small boy, would you go for a pink-wrapped present? No, of course you wouldn’t! It’s traditional, that’s all. Girls like girlie things and boys... well, you know.’ Anxious to finish the shopping, Connie left Max standing by the toys.
Studying the array of hard-faced dolls, with blonde hair, curvaceous bosoms and scarlet-painted mouths, Max shuddered. What ever happened to innocence and the days of baby dolls when little girls wanted to emulate their mothers, nursing their own ‘babies’ in their arms? Did today’s children really want this assortment of garish playthings?
‘They really are quite revolting, aren’t they?’ A voice murmured by Max’s side. ‘I take it from the look on your face we share the same opinion?’
Max studied the middle-aged woman who was holding a boxed-doll in her arms. ‘I’m here to buy my granddaughter’s birthday present.’ She tilted the box so Max could see its contents. ‘It’s very realistic, isn’t it and just like a baby?’
Max appeared relieved to discover that at least there was one little girl somewhere, who wanted to have a baby doll to play with – until he saw the writing on the box.
Secrets From The Past Page 8
