‘Mmm. I told her that it’s a big old house for one person so it was fine with me. Anyway, it’s her house.’
He grins, almost laughs, and she stares at him, puzzled, almost irritated by his high spirits.
‘So what about Saturday?’ she asks, almost grumpily.
‘Well, we’ll start off at Alf’s and then do a river trip up to Totnes. How about that? Maisie should enjoy that.’
‘What about Otto?’ She feels a perverse desire to put obstacles in his way.
Otto lifts his head; he watches them hopefully and his tail beats encouragingly. Benj leans down and strokes him, twiddles his ears.
‘What about him? Doesn’t Otto like Totnes?’
He looks up at her indignant face and begins to laugh. ‘Sorry.’ He holds up both hands in apology and then gets up. ‘I’m being very tiresome and silly. Sorry.’
And suddenly he puts his arms around her and hugs her, and she holds him tightly for a moment before she draws away from him, pushing back her hair and feeling much calmer, but not quite knowing how to move on. She picks up her tea, half turned away from him, and hears him sit down again.
‘So tell me about Otto,’ he says. His voice is still slightly teasing. ‘Does he get seasick? Or don’t they allow dogs on the river-boat?’
Suddenly she begins to laugh, infected by whatever joy is bubbling out from him, and relaxing into it.
‘Actually, I don’t know,’ she admits.
‘Neither do I,’ he says, ‘but I know a man who does. Mr Google will have the answers.’
He pulls his laptop towards him and opens it and then stretches out an arm without looking at her.
‘Stay for a bit,’ he says. ‘I’ll make us some supper if you like.’
She pulls a chair close to his and sits beside him staring at the screen. He puts his arm casually across her shoulder and at last she is able to relax.
Mikey drops his rucksack on the floor and looks around the flat with satisfaction. It’s great to be back here again though he almost wishes he could have come alone. Dad’s in a bit of a weird mood, sort of hyper and slightly crazy, wanting to talk all the way down on the train about how they’re going to get to know Evelyn Drake really well. Stuff like that. Mikey feels a bit uncomfortable about it, like when he was sending those cards Dad got for him: one before he went off to school and another during an exeat weekend. He wanted to write a card, he liked Evie, but it wasn’t the same with Dad asking what he was writing, reminding him to tell her about this or that. He couldn’t write what he really wanted to because Dad kept coming to peer over his shoulder and say silly things like, ‘Mind you give her my love,’ and then laughing, which made him feel embarrassed.
When they arrived at Totnes, Dad said they’d take a taxi to Dartmouth. ‘Blow the expense,’ he kept saying, taking a swig from his water bottle. ‘You only live once.’ The taxi driver gave Mikey a little friendly glance, like he was understanding how he felt but pitying him, and he hated it.
‘You OK there?’ Dad says, appearing in the doorway. ‘I’ve unpacked the big case so I thought I’d go out and get some fish and chips. Shan’t be long.’
Mikey feels disappointed. He wanted to walk around the town to see what it was like without regatta going on. It’s still quite early, though. There will be time to go out after they’ve eaten.
He takes his mobile phone out of his pocket and looks at it. His aunt Liz gave it to him for his birthday.
‘Time you had your own phone,’ she said, ‘but look after it and don’t take it to school. No nonsense with it, Mikey, or I shall have it back. My number is in already, and Uncle Paul’s, so if you ever need us or want to chat we’ll be right there.’
It made him very slightly nervous when she said that; like she expected there to be some kind of emergency.
‘You’re a big boy now,’ she said, ‘and it’s time you had a bit of responsibility.’
If he’s honest he feels he’s got quite enough responsibility with Dad’s mood swings, making sure he’s taking his happy pills, doing the shopping, but he doesn’t say so to Aunt Liz. They’re all missing Mum, he knows that, and Dad hasn’t been too bad since he got the library job. Except for the last couple of weeks, when he wrote to say that he’d had a few days off: bad headaches, feeling a bit under the weather.
Mikey goes into the kitchen to get the knives and forks so as to lay the table. He wonders how long Dad will be. Sometimes he can be gone for quite a long time, even doing quick simple things. At least when he comes back from these sorties he’s usually in a good mood. Mikey gives a great big sigh, like he’s heaving off all his worries. He’s back in Dartmouth and it’s going to be great.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
BEN IS THE first to arrive at Alf’s on Saturday morning. He and Jemima arranged it so that he could meet Miranda who is curious about this new friend who works with Jemima.
‘But don’t let on about what I told you. You know? Maisie’s father leaving them.’
Sitting under the awning in the autumn sunshine he thinks about Jemima; how it felt to hold her warm body in his arms. It somehow seemed a right and natural thing to do, just at that moment; to comfort her, a kind of celebration of his amazement and delight at Evie’s suggestion, and a need to show his affection for her. He enjoyed the feel of her and the smell of her, though he’d realized how easy it might be to take advantage of her emotional state and he managed to pull himself together. Quickly, their easy companionship reasserted itself as they sat together at his laptop looking at various websites, trying to decide how Maisie might be entertained.
‘Everything’s a bit flat for her since regatta,’ said Jemima, ‘but I think the river trip would make too many demands on Otto.’
‘I could have Otto,’ he suggested, ‘if it would help,’ and had seen an odd expression flit across her face. It was rather as if she was disappointed that he wouldn’t be one of the party and he was foolishly pleased.
‘Let’s start with lunch in Alf’s,’ she said. ‘Then you can meet Miranda and we’ll take it from there.’
So here he is – and here is Miranda, holding Maisie by the hand, scanning the tables and looking for Jemima. He recognizes them both from Stokeley Farm Shop, especially the child with her intent stare. She seems to remember him, too, waving suddenly and pulling Miranda forward.
He gets up, smiling at them, and Maisie calls, ‘Hello!’ as if they are old friends. Suddenly, he wonders if she’s mistaken him for Charlie and if Jemima has told her friend about Charlie and how she and Maisie went to the dog show with him.
‘I’m Ben Fortescue,’ he says. ‘Jemima should be here any moment.’
Miranda looks rather confused, clearly surprised that Maisie seems so friendly, but she shakes his outstretched hand and says, ‘I’m Miranda. Hello. I’ve got a feeling I’ve seen you somewhere.’
He smiles at her, Jemima’s voice in his ears: ‘Don’t mention Stokeley,’ she has warned him. ‘We work together, OK? I haven’t told her how we met at Alf’s or anything yet so you’ll have to wing it if she remembers.’
‘I wouldn’t be surprised,’ he says lightly. ‘Would you like some coffee?’
She squints into the dark interior. ‘Do they come to take your order or what?’
‘You have to go to the counter. Shall I get it?’
She shakes her head. ‘I’ll go and see what they’ve got, thanks. Maisie, stay here with Ben.’
‘I want a milkshake,’ Maisie says. ‘Or a Coke.’
‘I’m sure you do,’ says Miranda. ‘I’ll see.’
Maisie looks at Ben expectantly and he feels slightly nonplussed. He remembers Laura at this age: inquisitive, argumentative, stubborn. He thinks of several things to say, all of which seem rather pedestrian: ‘Do you like school?’ ‘How old are you?’ And all the while she watches him with this intent, slightly puzzled stare as if she knows something he doesn’t. His relief when Jemima turns in off the pavement with Otto is huge and he gets up to gree
t her with such enthusiasm that she raises her eyebrows at him.
‘I believe that Maisie thinks I’m Charlie,’ he mutters in her ear and she makes a little face and murmurs, ‘Oh shit,’ and then she beams at Maisie and calls, ‘Hello.’
Maisie is wriggling off her chair to stroke Otto, and Miranda is returning, so there is a general hubbub of greeting, then Ben sinks back into his chair, relieved that he can drink his coffee and leave it all to Jemima.
Maisie watches him. He looks like the man who took her to the dog show at regatta but there’s something slightly different about him, though she can’t think what it is. She also sees that Mummy is behaving a bit oddly too: laughing rather loudly, fiddling with her hair, showing off. That’s what she’d say if Maisie was behaving like that: ‘Stop showing off, Maisie,’ she’d say. Cups of coffee arrive, and a milkshake, and now her mother is fussing a little bit, making Maisie sit up straight, even running her hand over Maisie’s head and smiling at her: a specially sweet smile. It’s as if she is saying, ‘See what a nice Mummy I am,’ and Maisie twitches away from her hand and kneels up on her chair even though she knows she’s not allowed to. She can’t see why Mummy is behaving like this and she feels anxious and cross with her for being silly.
She slurps her milkshake noisily and glances at Jemima, who is watching Mummy with a funny look on her face. She looks slightly surprised and even faintly annoyed, as if she is thinking the same thing: ‘She’s showing off.’
Then Jemima looks at Maisie, and grins at her, and suddenly Maisie feels much better. She gets off her chair again and crouches down to stroke Otto, who swipes at her chin with his tongue so that she laughs out loud. Jemima hands down a little biscuit to give to him, and Maisie and Otto sit contentedly together while he eats his biscuit and she leans against him and is happy.
Jemima is rather surprised by the way Miranda is coming on to Benj: surprised, amused, but at the same time just very faintly annoyed. It’s silly, she tells herself, because Benj is a free agent but nevertheless she feels the same reaction as when he told her that Evie would be spending the winter at the Merchant’s House: a tiny stab of jealousy at the thought of anything coming between her and Benj’s friendship. It’s become very important to her to be able to meet up with him, drop in to see him, invite him over for a pint at the pub. There is no strain between them; they laugh a lot and have fun. Neither of them is looking for any kind of commitment: the break-up of his marriage is too recent and she is grateful for a relationship without all the drama of being physically and emotionally involved. Of course, just occasionally, it would almost be a relief to hop into bed with him but the brief satisfaction wouldn’t be worth the risk. It would change the whole dynamic of their easy-going friendship.
She knows, however, that she would rather hate it were he to become involved with Miranda – but even as she thinks it Benj droops an eyelid at her across the table and at once she is comforted.
He’s hot, Miranda is thinking. And I know I’ve seen him somewhere before. Fancy old Mimes keeping him dark. Not that there seems to be anything going on between them, really, so when she says he’s a work friend she might be telling the truth … Even so. And she said he’s getting divorced … I love the way his eyes crease up when he smiles. He’s dead sexy. I can’t believe Mimes doesn’t fancy him. And he’s really sweet with Maisie, but that’s probably because, like he said, he’s got a daughter and knows what they’re like at this age … Gosh! It would be so good to have someone like Ben in my life. Just to be there. To look out for me and Maisie. I am just so fed up with being alone. Nobody to make me a cup of tea or pour me a drink when I’m tired, or to ask how my day has been … And I think he likes me. I’m really glad I wore these jeans with my boots … I wonder how I can make sure he’s around when I pick Maisie up. I think Mimes said he lives in the town. Damn. I can’t think how to organize that and now I’ve got to go … I wonder if he’ll watch me walk out … OK, then. Time to go.
‘Gosh,’ Ben murmurs to Jemima as he watches Miranda leave. ‘Am I just a vain, desperate middle-aged man or did she come on a bit strong?’
‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ mutters Jemima. ‘She’s like that with all the chaps.’
‘Really?’ He’s partly deflated and partly relieved.
Maisie, still sitting with Otto under the table, stares up at him. ‘What are we going to do now?’ she demands.
He stares back at her, wondering why he allowed himself to be involved in this jaunt. The few ideas he and Jemima had already come up with suddenly seem rather unexciting. Then he remembers a conversation with a girl in the office talking about the previous weekend and the need to amuse her two young children.
‘We’re going to the zoo,’ he tells Maisie.
She scrambles up, her whole face alight with excitement.
‘To the zoo?’
‘Absolutely,’ he says firmly. ‘But no whining or fussing in the car. It’s a bit of a drive.’
‘I don’t remember the zoo being an option,’ murmurs Jemima, picking up Otto’s lead. ‘When did we decide about the zoo?’
He beams at her. ‘Two minutes ago.’
‘You’re crazy,’ she says, resigned.
‘Yeah,’ he agrees. ‘But, hey, you’re only young once.’
Jason sits at his table in the corner, watching them. He envies them their easy, friendly happiness. They look a jolly little family, with the child and the dog. The familiar jolt of anger seizes him: this is what it could have been like for him if life wasn’t so unfair. First his poor mama with her disabilities and his father’s weakness and betrayal, and his own disappointment at being denied a first-class education. Then his own health problems, and then Helena’s death ripping his own life and Mikey’s apart.
He can’t quite bear to think of losing his job in the library: not quite yet. It doesn’t seem real, and anyway he’s made an appeal to the head of the department explaining that his wife’s death is enough to make anyone ‘unreliable’ and ‘difficult to work with’ and whatever other things they’d wheeled in as an excuse to push him out.
He’s quite sure they’ll reconsider. Meanwhile he and Mikey need to cosy up to Evelyn Drake and make her see that it’s payback time for all those hours of picking his father’s brains, not to mention the misery she caused darling Mama. He’ll get tough if he has to but he’ll let Mikey soften her up first; he’s just gone out to phone her on his new mobile which Aunt Liz has given him. Good old Liz is an absolute saint, just like her sister.
He feels tears threatening – but here is Mikey, coming in and looking around for him.
‘Did you get her?’ Jason asks eagerly. ‘Did you make a date?’
Mikey nods, he looks a bit strained. ‘She asked me for a cup of tea tomorrow afternoon.’
Jason fetches a great sigh of relief: game on.
‘Great,’ he says. ‘Order yourself a Coke, why don’t you? And see if there’s anything you fancy for lunch.’
He feels generous, expansive, though funds are a bit short; but he can’t worry about that just now. Everything will sort itself out given time.
CHAPTER TWENTY
TRAVELLING DOWN FOR half term, Ange doesn’t talk about Evie as she did on the previous journey, nor does she go on about the injustice of TDF’s will and her worries that Ben might feel too much at home in the Merchant’s House. This time she is thinking about Charlie. He’s behaved oddly these last few weeks: not quite his usual affable, easy-going self. He’s been slightly preoccupied, occasionally curt, and several times she’s caught him looking at her with an assessing stare that makes her uncomfortable.
At first she worried that it might be to do with work, but everything was running smoothly, and then she wondered if he had a health problem he was hiding from her but his habits were unchanged, his appetite good. She even spoke to her mother about it – very lightly, of course – suggesting jokingly that he might be having a mid-life crisis, and her mother immediately asked if there could be a wo
man involved.
Of course Ange jumped on that one at once: Charlie, she said, was the last man in the world to be unfaithful. Her mother rather caustically replied that, never mind if he were the first or last man in the world, no man was immune to the flattery of women. Ange remained firm but she began to watch him when they were out with friends and she even – and of this she is rather ashamed – had a quick glance at the numbers in his mobile phone and checked his messages. There was nothing, of course. And, apart from the absent-mindedness and those curious sidelong glances, there was nothing else to make her suspicious: no late nights home from the office, no unusual calls or unexplained absences. Her closest, oldest friend burst out laughing when Ange told her what her mother had said and had slightly hinted at her own fears of infidelity.
‘You’re kidding,’ she said. ‘Charlie? No chance. We’ve all had a try with Charlie. He’s bomb-proof. It’s just that middle-aged thing. It’s not like you, Ange, to be so neurotic.’
She was comforted by this; reassured. Her friend’s disbelief, the shrieks of laughter, confirmed her trust in Charlie. Nevertheless, there is something bothering him.
As they head into Dartmouth Ange shifts in her seat.
‘I feel a bit of a fool, actually,’ she says, ‘arriving on our own. I mean it was supposed to be a half-term holiday with all four of us. Not just you and me.’
To her surprise she can hear in her voice a slight note of pleading: a requirement to be reassured. This is so unlike her. The truth is that Charlie’s oddness has unnerved her slightly; it’s never occurred to her that he could unsettle her. His reactions have always been so predictable: he’s such a calm, optimistic, laid-back man and so reliable with the children. Even when he’s stressed or grumpy she knows it will be short-lived and she can make him feel guilty about it afterwards and exploit it. Lately, though, it’s as if there’s another Charlie existing alongside the husband and father she thought she knew so well. And yet it’s all so formless, nothing she can really pin down, which makes it worse.
Summer on the River Page 20
