THIRTY-FIVE
‘WHERE WAS I?’
‘You had married Freddie and William had married Isabel. But obviously you met each other again?’
‘Oh yes. We couldn’t avoid it. We were part of the same business community, we lived in the same town, and we had to attend various social functions and so on. It was all very civilized. Isabel was a very attractive woman and she liked to entertain. Quite honestly, it was difficult for me, meeting William, because by then I hated him.’
‘Hated him? Because he had walked out on you?’
‘Yes but it was more about the reasons why he had done it. If he had just walked out on me because he no longer loved me then …’ She shrugged. ‘So be it. But as soon as I heard about him setting up in business, renting premises, buying machinery, it was clear what had happened. Father had bribed him, given him a substantial amount of money to leave me alone. And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, William had the nerve to take it. He dropped me, Adele, for money. That’s why I hated him. And that’s why I determined I would have my revenge. However long it took, I would have my revenge.’
Chrissie nodded off at that point, or at least she lay back in her chair and closed her eyes, and it was a long time before she spoke again. Adele was just wondering if she should try to rouse her when she stirred and opened her eyes, seeming surprised to be where she was.
‘I was waiting for him to make a move. I had made sure that we were never alone, always in the company of others, and I had seen him looking at me and I knew he still cared for me. And then, one night, it came to a head. They lived out in the country, a beautiful house, and it was Isabel’s birthday and she had invited a lot of people along and I think I knew before I went that something was going to happen. I was wearing a new dress.’ Her eyes lit up at the memory. ‘I remember it. It was pink, shocking pink, with a big full skirt and my perfume was one of Freddie’s favourites, “Evening in Paris”.’
‘Wow. You must have looked fantastic.’
‘I felt fantastic. Anyway, when the party was in full swing, I went outside for some air and there was William in the garden. It was as if he was waiting for me. It was a moonlit night, very starry, and I went to stand beside him and we looked up at the sky and he said, “do you remember?”, and there, out of sight of everybody, he kissed me. He kissed me and said he had always loved me, that Isabel meant nothing to him, and then he said that we could conduct an affair with complete discretion. Are you hearing this? The audacity of the man. Did he seriously think he could dump me, dump me, for money and then just come back to me again? He had a flat in town and it would be easy, he said, and nobody would ever know, least of all Isabel and Freddie. And do you know, I said yes.’
She picked up the silver locket that lay between them on the coffee table, fingered it before cupping it in her hand. ‘This was my moment. I had no intention of doing it but he was fooled. Isabel was fragile, not very well in her mind, even then, up and down, and there was her child, her boy, and there was my child, Louisa. How could I do it? How could I risk destroying two marriages? How could I risk the scandal? The Cavendish name must never be tarnished.’ She laughed but there was heartbreak in the sound. ‘So the truth was I never went to the assignation. I built up his hopes and I let him down. He waited and waited and I never arrived. And that was my revenge. I imagine it broke his heart. For a while he started taking chances, telephoning me and so on, but after a while when he realized I was serious, that I no longer loved him, it all stopped. The only problem being that, in spite of all he had done, I did still love him, there was still that spark between us, but I was never going to give him that satisfaction. It took a lot of discipline, not going to him again. I wanted to, sweetpea. I so wanted to. So, boring as it is, I was faithful to my Freddie and William was, so far as I know, faithful to Isabel. I don’t believe there was any other woman. And that, my dear, is the truth.’
‘But surely she committed suicide because of the affair she thought William was having? She must have had some proof.’
‘Rumours. What did I tell you about rumours? William was a charming man. He loved to flatter the ladies, flirt a little, so nobody was at all surprised that he might have had an affair, more than one probably.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Tempted as I was, I studiously avoided committing adultery but the irony was that Freddie and Isabel had no such qualms.’
‘Oh.’ Adele stared at her. ‘You don’t mean…?’
She nodded. ‘Freddie always knew he was second best for me and he and Isabel had become friends over the years. William and I were oblivious to it. She fell for Freddie’s very grand upbringing and his undoubted charm. They were very discreet. My God, were they discreet! It went on for years and years. None of our friends knew but when William did find out, by accident, walking in on them, I believe, Isabel went completely to pieces. She could not bear the thought of it coming out, she, a woman who liked to boast of her links to the Scottish nobility, a woman beyond reproach.’
‘I see.’
‘Afterwards, the rumours started up but they got it wrong. They centred on William and, to his credit, he took the rap, as they say. To his dying day, he never told anyone. Not even Johnny, especially not him, because he didn’t want to destroy Johnny’s illusions about his mother.’
‘What about Grandfather? What did he do?’
‘Freddie? Isabel’s suicide nearly destroyed him but he was made of stern stuff and there was me and Louisa to consider. He confessed all but asked me to forgive him. So I did. It was out of the question that he would say or do anything to soil his dearest Isabel’s reputation. After she died, we continued our lives, presenting a united front, and there was always Louisa to think about. Freddie was very fond of Louisa.’ She brightened suddenly. ‘And that’s it. They are both gone now. Freddie and William. But I was with William at the last and he knew it. It was all too late by then. Much too late. Although I did tell him that I’d forgiven him. I am not proud of myself, Adele. Revenge is not sweet, whatever they say. I hate myself for being vengeful. Never let yourself be driven by hate, darling. It’s not worth it. It made me sick seeing him there as he lay dying and thinking about all the wasted years. I think he tried to say my name. He used to call me Belle.’
‘Oh, Gran, I’m so sorry.’
‘Why am I telling you this?’ Chrissie frowned, peering at her. ‘Ah yes, I know why. I think somebody other than me ought to be aware that William was never the complete bounder they made him out to be.’
Adele hid a smile at the ‘bounder’. She could think of a much more satisfactory word.
‘He loved Isabel in his way and I believe he only made that suggestion to me because he loved me more. Foolish man. But then, I could have married him anyway, without my father’s consent, had I had the nerve to do it. We would have struggled without a penny to our name but I often wonder …’ She smiled sadly. ‘Go with Rory to Cheltenham. It bothers me a little that you and Becky Blundell are so close these days. We would be wise to steer clear of any further family connections.’
It struck Adele so suddenly, so strongly, that she almost reeled from the shock of it. Little things came thudding back. Her gran’s casual mention of abortion, of considering it, her mother’s early arrival … Could it be?
‘She’s Freddie’s daughter,’ Chrissie said, reading her mind. ‘Have no fear of that. She arrived early, unexpectedly, but she was Freddie’s. I just happen to feel strongly that another liaison between the families would be equally doomed. Alex and Samantha, for instance, way down the line. If you go to Cheltenham, loosen the ties with the Blundells, then it’s less likely to happen.’
‘It wouldn’t happen in any case,’ Adele said with a laugh. ‘So you have no need to worry about that although we’ve always said they are very sweet together. Alex so dark, Samantha so fair. She’s going to be a beauty and as for Alex, well … if he’s anything like his father, he’ll have the girls falling over themselves.’
Adele found herself looking closely at her mother when she left the house.
Her gran had been adamant but she looked at her mother’s eyes, an interesting blue-grey mix like Simon Blundell’s, and wondered. Perhaps that was one secret too many, one that her gran would carry with her to the grave.
EPILOGUE
BECKY WAS CONTENT, as content as anybody could be.
As soon as she heard from Adele that she was moving to Cheltenham, she had wasted no time. She had persuaded Simon to have a look round The Manse even before it was put on the market and he had been as thrilled with it as she was. Adele and Rory were delighted to have such an easy sale and Simon’s apartment sold fast so it had all been accomplished with the minimum of fuss.
Four years on, they knew they would never move. It was a big house, true, for just the three of them, but they loved it and Becky had room for a studio up in the attic. She was a year into an art course at college, now that she could fit it into her life, and thoroughly enjoying it. Shelley came to visit often, disgracefully retired now and spending her money as she saw fit. Alan had been over to see her, to settle things, but there was never any question of her going back with him.
Adele and Rory came back to town occasionally to visit her parents and they had a new addition to their family, another little boy, perfectly healthy this time. It had upset and confused Becky that there had been little attempt to hold fast to their friendship. Friendships suffered at a distance, she knew that, but it had become clear over the years that Adele, for whatever reason, wanted to let go. It wasn’t a direct snub. She was far too nice for that. It was much more of a gentle tailing away. The ‘do come to see us when you’re down our way’ had been uttered but more out of politeness than with genuine enthusiasm and Becky had sensed that and was not going to push it. Adele was busy at that, having opened up a small café cum coffee shop in Cheltenham as well as looking after her boys. A few months ago, Becky had seen Adele and her mother in town, with the little boys, obviously on a visit home, and had very nearly called out to her for she had Samantha with her and it would have been nice to have a catch-up. Just in time, she realized that Adele had made no attempt to call her to inform her of the intended visit.
It could not be clearer. It hurt but that was that.
Recently, reading through the local paper, she had come across the announcement of Adele’s grandmother’s death at the grand old age of ninety. Oh, she hadn’t realized Chrissie’s full name was Christabel. How ridiculous that it had never occurred to her for she had just assumed Christine.
Christabel.
It had puzzled Esther when she told her about William’s sometimes manic mumblings. She confirmed what Johnny had once told her. So far as she knew, William had never called Isabel ‘Belle’. Sometimes, if he was in a particularly playful mood, he might call her ‘Izzy’ but never Belle. Could Christabel then be the Belle that William had rambled on about?
Becky did not go to the funeral but she knew where Chrissie had been buried and, later in the week, she went alone to pay her respects.
It was a lovely summer’s day as she walked through the churchyard, finding the grave and laying the flowers she had brought on it. They were a lovely bunch of red roses, Chrissie’s favourites. The funeral flowers remained there, crisp and dying themselves now, and she read the cards attached. Beside Adele’s wreath of white lilies, there was a small bunch of sweetpeas from her boys.
The facts as Becky saw them were clear as crystal and now there was nobody left to dispute them. It was perfectly obvious that the mysterious woman with whom William had had a long affair was Christabel. Isabel found out about it and, as a result, committed suicide. Afterwards, Chrissie had abandoned William or maybe they abandoned each other but, guilty to the last, he had never ever forgotten her, hence all the mutterings about his Belle, his beautiful Belle.
And that was it. Mind you, there was no point in talking about it with Simon or Esther or even her mum.
She leaned down and adjusted Louisa’s extravagant wreath.
It was very quiet and still. There was nobody around. She was not sure of the etiquette involved, whether or not you were supposed to do this sort of thing without permission but who would know and she did not want to ask for permission in case it was refused.
William’s ashes had found their way on to a high shelf at The Manse until they decided what to do with them, Johnny having refused to have them in his house. And, with no decision forthcoming, they had stayed there these past years.
Unknown to Simon, Becky had some of them now in her handbag.
Checking to see that nobody was around still, she tipped them out of the little container on to the grave, using the stems of the flowers to disperse them amongst the silvery shaded gravel.
There!
Christabel and William.
It was right that they should be together at last.
She stood up and inclined her head a moment, thinking about the two of them, seeing William’s smile afresh, as it would have been, and Chrissie’s lovely dark eyes.
And then, blinking suddenly in the bright sunshine, she turned and walked away.
By the Same Author
Eight Days at The New Grand
Olivia’s Garden
The Cuckoo’s Nest
Return to Rosemount
Emily’s Wedding
Family Secrets
A Perfect Mother
Copyright
© Patricia Fawcett 2009
First published in Great Britain 2009
This edition 2011
ISBN 978 0 7090 9549 1 (ebook)
ISBN 978 0 7090 9550 7 (mobi)
ISBN 978 0 7090 9551 4 (pdf)
ISBN 978 0 7090 8737 3 (print)
Robert Hale Limited
Clerkenwell House
Clerkenwell Green
London EC1R 0HT
www.halebooks.com
The right of Patricia Fawcett to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
Rumours and Red Roses Page 24
