Lauren was pacing the floor, on the verge of ringing the police, when Troy calmly strolled up the front path with two overexcited children.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ she yelled, as she opened the door, anxiety manifesting itself as anger. ‘I was worried sick.’
‘I didn’t know you cared,’ said Troy with a grin.
‘I wasn’t worried about you,’ snapped Lauren. ‘I was worried about the girls.’
‘Why?’ said Troy. ‘They’re fine.’
‘You’re late, and your phone was switched off,’ said Lauren.
‘Ah, sorry, we stopped off for a McDonald’s, and I forgot to charge my phone,’ said Troy. ‘We’re only just over half an hour late. What on earth did you think had happened?’
‘I – oh – it’s stupid but I thought you’d taken them,’ muttered Lauren when the girls were out of earshot.
‘I can’t believe you would think such a thing of me!’ It was Troy’s turn to be furious. ‘Why on earth would I take the girls away from you?’
‘Because you left so early, and you were gone so long. And I didn’t know what to think,’ she finished lamely.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Troy. ‘I thought it would be nice to have a good day out with my daughters. I didn’t realize you’d be clockwatching. Jeez, there’s no pleasing you is there?’
‘Oh,’ said Lauren, feeling foolish. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just on past performance …’
‘How many times do I need to tell you I’ve changed?’ said Troy, with a heavy sigh, and Lauren had the unusual experience of feeling guilty that she’d underestimated him. She changed the subject.
‘How did you get on then?’ she asked, attempting to sound more cheery.
‘We had a great day, didn’t we, girls?’ said Troy. The twins, who’d been anxiously watching their parents during the previous exchange, burst into ready smiles.
‘Daddy took us to McDonald’s,’ said Immie.
‘And we saw Tangled,’ said Izzie. ‘It was fun.’
‘That’s lovely, darlings,’ said Lauren, as she hugged both girls really tightly. ‘I was just being silly, I missed you both so much. I’ll just pop a DVD on for you, while Daddy and I talk.’
When Lauren settled the children, she came back into the kitchen and looked at Troy directly and said, ‘Troy, what is it you really want? Why are you here?’
‘I know you might find this hard to accept, but I do want to get to know my girls,’ said Troy.
‘But why after all this time?’ persisted Lauren.
‘You know all that stuff I told you about my dad?’ said Troy.
‘What about it?’ said Lauren.
‘It’s made me realize I don’t want to be the kind of dad he was,’ said Troy. ‘I want to be there for the girls, I really do. And to prove it to you, I’ve found somewhere to live in Heartsease, and I’ve got a job working in the pub. It’s only a stopgap, till I get something better, and can afford to pay you some maintenance.’
‘Oh,’ said Lauren, not sure quite how she felt about that.
‘Please, Lauren, give me a chance,’ said Troy. ‘I know I can’t do much about the past, but I can change the future, if you’ll let me.’
‘Well, that’s good then,’ said Lauren, patting his arm awkwardly, before withdrawing her hand. ‘And it is what I’ve always wanted for the girls. Our new family life starts from here.’
Kezzie spent the weekend immersed in garden plans, and by Monday morning she was raring to go. She’d been so excited since she and Joel had found Edward’s original designs, she’d barely been away from the computer, trying to work out how she could incorporate the old with the new. She’d also wangled a grant from a small horticultural charity, which meant both she and Joel could really afford to go ahead with the project without worrying about the financial implications.
They had managed to rotivate the majority of the garden just before Christmas, before the ground had got too hard, so now Kezzie was able to start planning out. She was hoping to get the plants in by the early part of the spring, weather permitting. It felt good to be back in Heartsease organizing things, after spending Christmas with Flick, followed by a trip to visit her parents in Spain. As usual she had got a lot of flak about not being like her little sister, who was married and settled in a nice home with her 2.4 children, so it was a relief to get back to her real life. Although it had been nice to have a holiday, Kezzie couldn’t help feeling it was more restful here.
Some of Edward’s choices of plants for the borders felt overfussy for today’s garden; she wasn’t sure she wanted them to be such a hotchpotch of perennials for example, but she’d got the list of plants he’d placed in the gaps intended for his children. In each of the four corners, he’d planted agapanthus (representing immortality) in memory of the babies who had died in childbirth (the name of one poignantly written in the margin), but gone on to plant snowdrops (symbolizing hope) for his daughter Connie, white carnations (good luck) to mark the birth of Harry, and finally peonies (for healing and a happy life) for his youngest daughter, Tilly.
Harry, it appeared from Lily’s diaries, was very much the favoured son. Connie barely got a mention, but Tilly, as the youngest, was clearly doted on. Kezzie sniffed disparagingly. Having always suspected her parents liked her younger sister more, Kezzie felt an instinctive fellow feeling for Connie. Although it also seemed, from Edward’s numerous and affectionate letters to his eldest daughter, that he had compensated somewhat for her mother’s lack of interest. Kezzie hoped so. She was getting so immersed in the stories of these long-dead people, they were becoming more real to her than people she knew in real life.
Kezzie finished the design on her computer with a feeling of satisfaction. She’d looked up the entry requirements for Hampton Court, and she wouldn’t have time to apply this year, but she could probably apply for Chelsea in the autumn, if she got her website up and running in time. She laughed to herself, thinking of the time she, Flick and Gavin had entered the Alternative Chelsea Flower Show and won with an eco-friendly garden designed for the twenty-first century. Richard had fallen about when she’d described how she’d snuck up and taken discarded stems that no one else had used. He’d been semi horrified of course, till she’d pointed out the waste. ‘It’s like those people who forage for food in bins,’ she’d explained, ‘only with flowers instead.’
Richard. A stab of longing for him came over her. What was he doing? How was he coping without her? She had a sudden desire to hear his voice, stupid as she knew it was. She’d left London months ago, and he’d made no effort to contact her, even at Christmas. Not that she had made it easy for him. She’d changed her mobile, moved house, and the only people who knew where she was were her parents and Flick. Richard had never met Jo, and associated Kezzie with town – she’d always proudly proclaimed her urban heritage – he would never look for her here. Always supposing he was looking.
Kezzie picked up her phone and played with it a while. Richard’s number wasn’t on it. She’d deliberately left it off, just as she’d deleted his email address from the computer to reduce the risk of repeating those awful, embarrassing, late night drunken texts and emails in the aftermath of their break-up. But she knew the number by heart.
She was stronger now though. Perhaps she could stand to listen to his voice. Tentatively, her fingers shaking, Kezzie rang his mobile number. Her heart was in her mouth, what did she think she was doing? What if he answered it? What if he didn’t? It rang several times. Good. He wasn’t answering. Any minute it would go to voicemail –
‘Richard’s phone.’
A woman? A woman had answered Richard’s phone and it definitely wasn’t Emily. Kezzie nearly screamed with shock.
‘Who is this please?’
Kezzie turned off her phone. She was shaking like a leaf, and felt vaguely sick.
What on earth did she think she was doing? She should leave Richard in the past where he belonged. Unsettled by what had happened, and feelin
g unable to stay in the house a moment longer, Kezzie decided to pop out for some fresh air. Without really thinking where she was going, she wandered into Heartsease and was meandering aimlessly past the shops, when she bumped into Lauren and Sam.
‘Hey, Lauren, what are you up to?’ said Kezzie, loath to go back home, and hoping she was free.
‘Not a lot,’ said Lauren. ‘Going home and putting my shopping away, mainly. I lead an exciting life.’
‘Do you fancy a coffee then?’ said Kezzie, who was unwilling to go back home.
‘Coffee sounds great,’ said Lauren, and the pair of them ambled towards Keef’s. ‘What will it be, lovely ladies?’ Keith asked, his eyes twinkling. ‘I’ve got a new lemon-flavoured frappucino that is to die for.’
One of Keith’s many eccentricities was introducing weird and wonderful flavours into the coffee. Kezzie had made the mistake of trying out his cherry-flavoured frappucino once, so hastily asked for a latte, while Lauren settled for a hot chocolate.
‘I’m glad we bumped into one another,’ said Kezzie. ‘I’ve been meaning to pick your brains about the playground. I know it’s really shabby but it’s going to cost a bit to do it up …’
‘First off, the kids need space,’ said Lauren, counting on her fingers, ‘that play area is ridiculously cramped. Second, they need new, clean, safe equipment with spongy surfaces so the kids don’t hurt themselves when they fall.’
‘Plain old concrete not good enough any more?’ said Kezzie, jokingly, remembering scratched knees and elbows received from jumping off swings and roundabouts that were going too fast.
‘Not in this day and age, no. It needs to be bright, friendly, have some areas of shade, benches for the mums to sit on, and stuff for kids to crawl, climb and swing on.’
‘Anything else?’
‘You should look at turning that derelict patch at the back into an area for teens. Give them a baseball court and skateboard park so they’ve got something to do. It might stop them taking over the baby playground.’
‘Blimey, that’s a list and a half,’ said Kezzie. ‘The fete’s going to need to raise a whole load of dosh to do all that.’
‘I think we should encourage Eileen in her aim of making it more of an event,’ said Lauren. ‘It’s always very low key, the summer fete. I think they could make an awful lot more of it than they do.’
‘Do you fancy going up against Cynthia at the next meeting?’ said Kezzie, and they both giggled at the thought. Kezzie sipped her latte. She was still feeling shaken up about the phone call and felt she had to talk to someone about it.
‘I did something really dumb today,’ she said.
‘Which was?’
‘I rang Richard up. My ex.’
‘And?’ said Lauren.
‘And a woman answered the phone,’ said Kezzie. ‘I felt so stupid. I can’t believe he’s found someone else already.’
‘How do you know it was a girlfriend?’
‘She answered his mobile.’
‘So? She might be someone he works with.’
‘I know everyone he works with,’ said Kezzie, ‘and I didn’t recognize her voice. Besides, I rang him at nine thirty. He’s never in the office that early. He must have been at home.’
‘There might be another explanation,’ said Lauren.
‘I can’t think of one,’ said Kezzie. ‘So, anyway. I’ve decided. It’s high time I moved on. So that’s what I plan to do.’
Joel was sitting at Edward’s writing desk, reading his diary. The study was smaller than the other rooms in the house, and had a nice cosy feel. So of an evening, Joel had taken to sitting in there with his laptop after he had put Sam to bed. Since he’d discovered Edward’s diary, he’d also found himself obsessively reading about his ancestor’s trials and tribulations. It certainly put his own life into perspective. He was glad to read that after the children had been born there was a period of relative calm, when Lily and Edward seemed to have been happy again. He noticed with wry pleasure that the family often went for picnics by the river.
When Claire was alive they had gone on frequent walks on the Downs. There was one walk in particular, that went down into a valley and near a river, where there was the most beautiful willow tree, which had been a particular favourite. Joel found himself often retracing that walk when he wanted to think about Claire, and he liked the fact that it had clearly been a favourite spot of Edward’s too. Sometimes, the river made him feel peaceful. At others, he came home feeling melancholy. The previous day he’d taken Sam out in the backpack, but being a cold and gloomy day, it had had the latter effect. And even Sam’s giggling in the bath hadn’t been enough to cheer him up. His mood hadn’t improved after a hard day’s work, when every decision that had to be made seemed to be a painful one. And when he’d got back with Sam that evening, Kezzie wasn’t there. He’d forgotten that she had told him she was going to be working at home that day. The house felt cold and empty; the prospect of another lonely evening in front of the TV, bleak. He’d got used to Kezzie’s cheerful presence around the place, and found himself missing her joie de vivre.
He poured himself a glass of whisky and stared out at the darkening front garden. He had a sudden longing for Claire. These feelings lurched on him without warning, knocking him for six and making him gasp with the hideousness of the pain. He could remember an evening in early summer, just after they’d moved in, when they’d sat outside on the old wooden bench on the crumbling patio and looked at their overgrown garden. He’d had one arm around her, and one hand on her stomach, feeling the thrill, when Sam – then only known as the Bump – had kicked. He’d do anything to go back to that moment – one of the last moments, he sometimes felt, when they’d been truly happy together.
Joel hadn’t meant to let Claire down, but he knew he had. When Sam was born, Claire had taken to motherhood like a duck to water, breastfeeding through the night with seeming contentment, creating a bond with their son that he simply could not share. Joel had known it was petty and pathetic of him, but he felt pushed out – it was as though Claire didn’t need him any longer. She had her baby, his needs came first, and Joel was superfluous to requirements. He’d tried to explain how he felt, and she’d just snapped at him and told him he was being ridiculous. ‘Sam’s a baby,’ she said. ‘He needs me. It won’t be forever.’
But as the early weeks of parenthood dragged on, and Claire’s obsession with their newborn son had continued to grow, Joel found himself making excuses as to why he was late home, or when he was there, finding projects that needed his urgent attention. There had always been plenty of those.
Looking back, he could see how Claire must have been puzzled and hurt by his distance and behaviour, but at the time he’d justified it by telling her that he was doing all of it for her.
‘Yes, I really want to spend all of Saturday with a baby, while you knock walls down upstairs,’ she’d said. ‘There’s nothing I love more than a house full of dust.’
And then inevitably there’d be a row, with all the usual tears and recriminations. And he’d been so resentful. So angry with her. If only he’d been able to see the future. How differently he would have reacted. He’d have taken her into his arms and kissed her and told her she was right. If only.
This feeling of guilt was something he was going to have to live with for the rest of his life. Joel closed his eyes and took another sip of whisky.
Chapter Fifteen
‘So you think you’ve got New Horizons?’ said Eileen, at the start of the next Summer Fest meeting (now the official name, despite Cynthia’s objections), towards the beginning of March. ‘Excellent.’
‘Well, I hope so,’ said Joel, whose search for suitable celebrities had included the glamorous ex wife of a jaded popstar, a washed-up alcoholic actor, and an ex soapstar, before eventually persuading New Horizons to show up. As the hottest boy band around, who were still new enough to need all the publicity they could get, they would definitely draw a crowd. ‘They s
eem pretty keen.’
‘Hmph,’ said Cynthia sniffily. ‘I don’t know why we can’t have Alan Marshcroft, as we’ve always done.’
‘New ideas, remember?’ said Tony Symonds, gently. ‘I think that’s brilliant news, Joel, well done.’
‘You’ll certainly have every little girl from miles around coming,’ said Kezzie. ‘And they should bring their parents.’
‘How are we getting on with the other entertainments?’ Tony asked.
‘Fine,’ replied Henry Clevedon, a retired judge. He peered over the top of his spectacles at a list he was holding. ‘We have morris dancing lined up, a choir singing madrigals, and the vicar’s kindly opened the church for the bell ringing practice. He’s also going to charge to visit the top of the tower. There are very fine views of the Downs from there, you know. On a clear day you can even see the sea.’
‘Marvellous,’ said Tony. ‘Now, we’ve arranged for the High Street to be closed, and a number of people have booked stalls already. George Anderson from the butcher’s is doing a hog roast for us in the field, and in the evening we’re going to have music and fireworks.’
‘Any joy sorting a venue out for the Edward Handford exhibition?’ said Kezzie. ‘Only Joel and I have uncovered lots of interesting material, and plenty of family photos. Edward Handford did such a lot for this village; it would be brilliant if we could celebrate his anniversary properly.’
‘Why don’t we use Lovelace Cottage?’ suggested Eileen. ‘Joel, would you mind?’
‘Er,’ Joel was taken aback. He was unsure whether anyone would want to visit his house, the state it was in, but he supposed it made sense to use Edward’s house as the base for the exhibition. ‘I suppose so, if everyone else thinks it’s a good idea.’
‘I think that’s a great idea,’ said Kezzie, and the rest of the committee seemed to agree.
Summer Season Page 15
