She struggled to recall the welcome words she had planned but they had gone. ‘Papa!’ she stammered and her throat was so dry that no other words came out.
He said, ‘Yes siree!’ in a mocking American accent. ‘Jack Fratton, in person. Which one are you? Olivia or Annabel?’
‘I’m Isabel!’ Shocked, she fought down the immediate and deep hurt his words had caused. She was his youngest daughter and he didn’t even remember her name? Mortified, she realized that Olivia, who was following slowly, must have heard. She stumbled on desperately. ‘You may call me Izzie. Everyone does – in the family, that is. I’m the one you never saw. You had left before I was born . . . and then Mother died.’ She felt like crying. Nothing was going the way she had planned. He didn’t look thrilled to see her and without at least a smile from him, it seemed unsuitable to throw herself into his arms and cling to him. Instead she held open the door and said. ‘You’d better come in.’ In retrospect it sounded grudging. ‘I’ll hang up your coat.’
At last he smiled faintly. ‘Am I staying then?’ He stepped inside and put down the bag he was carrying. Isabel took the coat from him and hung it up on the hall stand, resisting the impulse to clutch it to her heart. She wanted to say so much to him and yet he was not encouraging any signs of affection.
She said, ‘I’m engaged to be married.’
‘Married! My! Isn’t that something!’
The words lacked conviction, she thought, or was she being too sensitive? The poor man must be very nervous. She searched his face for some sign that he was genuinely interested but he simply nodded with what she took to be approval. Fortunately, at that moment Olivia joined them.
‘This is my sister, Olivia,’ she said unnecessarily.
Olivia found herself staring into wary brown eyes. Weary eyes, she thought, but his gaze was steady. There was a tension in his manner which disconcerted her and the phrases she had planned for the occasion fled from her mind. She had intended to say, ‘Did you forget something?’ which had once seemed rather amusing but now felt totally inappropriate – but so, also, did any words of genuine welcome and to her annoyance she found herself tongue-tied. Surely he should say something, she thought desperately, but he remained silent. There was no flash of recognition between them and she felt nothing for him which could be considered warmth or a sense of forgiveness. He seems vulnerable, she thought at last. Vulnerable, confused and out of his depth, maybe, but not guilty. Yes. That was it. She read no hint of contrition in the good-natured features. It took her by surprise.
After a long, uneasy moment Olivia and her father shook hands awkwardly and she finally managed a few words of greeting and added, ‘Have you had a good journey?’
‘A long one,’ he amended with a slight smile.
‘Would you like to wash or refresh yourself? No doubt you can find your way up to the bathroom.’
‘I’ll take you up,’ Isabel said eagerly, ‘You won’t recognize the bathroom. The lino is new and we’ve had a geyser fitted for hot water! Three years ago.’
He declined the offer with a polite shake of his head. ‘I’m great, thanks,’ He was giving Olivia a long look. ‘You are very like Ellen when I first knew her. Very like her – but I expect you know that.’
Isabel said quickly, ‘Perhaps I take after you, Father. Aunt Alice thought—’
‘Alice Redmond? Ah yes. Aunt Alice. I imagine she’s no longer with us. I seem to remember—’
Olivia said, ‘On the contrary, she’s very much alive – but do come into the front room. We mustn’t keep you standing here.’
As they trailed uncertainly into the best room Jack said, ‘Something smells very good.’
‘Olivia has cooked chicken,’ Isabel told him before Olivia could reply, ‘but I can cook too. I do a very good fish pie with cod and shrimps and topped with creamy mashed potato.’
‘Sounds great!’ At last he gave her a smile. ‘I’ll look forward to that.’
Olivia said, ‘I thought you didn’t like fish – because of the bones.’ She spoke without thinking and the words sounded almost accusing and she bit her lip as Izzie turned to her.
With a look that spoke volumes, Isabel rushed to his defence.
‘Aunt Alice said Father was afraid of bones in case they got stuck in his throat – but people can grow out of things.’ She turned to him. ‘I expect you’ve become used to them after all that time in California. I expect they eat lots of fish there.’
‘Er, yes. I guess we do at that.’
Isabel gave her sister a triumphant grin and Olivia changed the subject. ‘Izzie’s fiancé is a lucky man!’ she told her father but then wished the words unsaid. They sounded ‘motherly’, she thought. The one thing she wanted to avoid.
Unable to wait any longer Isabel said, ‘You have come at the right time, Father, because I’m getting married on the twenty-sixth and you will be able to escort me down the aisle! I’ve been praying that you would be here in time. You will, won’t you?’
‘Getting married?’ He looked surprised.
Hadn’t he been listening, Olivia wondered.
‘I told you – and don’t say I’m too young because I’m not and Aunt Alice says . . .’
He turned to Olivia. ‘You say that Alice Redmond is still alive? I had no idea. I reckoned she’d be long gone. I guess I lost track of time.’
Before Olivia could answer, Isabel said, ‘She’s really old but no one knows her age. She might come to the wedding but—’
‘She’s coming to the wedding?’ He seemed disturbed by the idea.
Apparently unaware, Isabel said, ‘You will meet my fiancé shortly. He’s coming to supper. His name’s Bertram Hatterly but we all call him Bertie so you can, of course. Being family.’ Her smile was brighter now.
Her confidence was slowly returning, thought Olivia thankfully. Being called Annabel would have been a nasty jolt.
A large black mark would have been given!
They all sat down and minutes later Bertie arrived and Olivia took the chance to escape to the kitchen leaving them to introductions and talk about the wedding while she considered her own confused feelings.
Was this quiet unimpressive man someone her mother had adored? He was certainly the man with whom she had produced four children. Olivia was surprised and disappointed to feel nothing for him whatsoever. Even his voice provoked no memories. He was simply a stranger. A man called Jack Fratton. What on earth had her mother seen in him, she wondered, and had she still adored him when he left for the second time, breaking her heart, leaving them under what now seemed to be rather chaotic circumstances, if Mrs Whinnie was to be believed?
She decided to write immediately to Aunt Alice and ask her for her version of those traumatic events. Then she would decide whether or not she wished her father to remain in the house. Unless, of course, she asked Jack Fratton outright to tell them what had happened to split up the family in such a drastic fashion.
She was putting the potatoes on to boil when Luke came in by the back door, his expression carefully non-committal which Olivia usually saw as a bad sign. He stood staring out of the kitchen window, his fingers drumming restlessly on the table. Waiting, she said nothing.
‘So no word from the wanderer?’ he asked, without much interest.
‘He’s in the front room!’
Luke’s jaw dropped in surprise as he turned. ‘What – here? Now?’
‘Yes. He’s been here about ten minutes.’ She almost said, ‘And where have you been?’ but managed to hold back the words.
Luke considered the news. ‘So what’s he like?’
She shrugged wordlessly.
‘So not quite the return of the gallant and wild adventurer!’ Luke rolled his eyes. ‘He didn’t gallop up on a horse in search of his long-lost family?’ He was trying to sound uninterested but Olivia knew he must be, at the very least, curious about their visitor.
‘Gallant and wild? Not at all. Rather subdued. If anything I think he probabl
y feels apprehensive. He doesn’t know what to expect from us.’
‘Serve him right. We don’t know what to expect from him! Does Theo know he’s here?’
‘Yes, but they aren’t coming this evening. Cicely’s a bit under the weather – whereas Izzie, naturally, is now in seventh heaven.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Bending his ear, as they say! Izzie will probably drive him straight back to California! And what about you?’
‘The jury’s still out!’
‘Hmm. Is that chicken I can smell?’
‘Yes. Bertie’s coming. He should be here at any moment.’
Luke sat down on a stool to prove how little he cared about their visitor and stuck out his legs. He looked thoughtful and Olivia’s heart skipped a beat. She felt that he had more to say – something to tell her which she might not want to hear. The signs were there. Suddenly she didn’t want any more surprises so she busied herself, checking the potatoes unnecessarily, and then hurried to join the family, offering to show their father to the room she had allotted for him.
Isabel, however, had other ideas. ‘I’ll take father to his room. We’ve got so much to talk about.’
Looking slightly self-conscious, Jack Fratton followed her from the room taking his bag with him and Olivia found herself alone in the hall staring at the duster coat which hung on the hallstand – a testament to twenty years of life in a different country with different people.
And another family, perhaps? After years pretending that she no longer cared about him or his desertion, she now felt an unexpected frisson of hurt. He had rejected Ellen and his children and they had been forced to accept all that that meant – but had he then compounded the deed by finding another woman and producing other children? Were there other sons and daughters who knew him intimately and had shared the ups and downs of his life in California?
She swallowed, trying to lessen the pain she felt.
‘And now you’re back!’ she said aloud. She imagined Isabel showing him into the spare room. It was not the bedroom he had originally shared with his wife. Would he notice that? Izzie had placed a vase of flowers on the window sill (‘to make him feel welcome’ she had told Olivia) and earlier, in a flash of resentment, Olivia had been tempted to remove them – to open the window, in fact, and throw the blooms out on to the terrace. Fortunately common sense had prevailed and she had allowed them to remain. Now she muttered, ‘Just until the wedding, Jack Fratton, and then you can leave. You’re not really wanted here.’
Bertie duly arrived, Luke greeted his father and the supper started. Talk was at first forced as everyone tiptoed around Jack’s presence, trying not to say anything controversial. The past twenty years seemed to be a forbidden subject but Bertie and Izzie kept the conversation afloat by talking about their coming wedding.
Luke was unusually quiet and Olivia was worrying about what it was that was worrying him. She was also longing to ask Jack the crucial question – ‘So what made you come back?’
Before this could happen, however, Luke asked a crucial question of his own. ‘Is it all right with everyone if Fenella Anders moves in with us at the end of next week? Her husband’s coming home and she’s leaving him and has nowhere to go.’
Olivia’s stomach curled with a mix of shock, fear and amazement but Luke, his chin jutted, was looking at her for an answer.
Bertie and Isabel exchanged startled glances and Jack, neatly sidelined, studied the last fragments of his chicken casserole, his appetite fast disappearing.
Luke went on. ‘I thought she could have Theo’s room.’
Isabel recovered first. Giving her brother a furious look she snapped, ‘Of course she can’t come here! She’s a married woman! Whatever would people think? And we’ll be in the middle of my wedding preparations. It would be quite impossible. You must see that.’ She turned to Jack. ‘It’s out of the question, isn’t it? For heaven’s sake!’ Her voice was rising. ‘We might have her husband round here demanding that she goes back to him! I don’t want a scandal just before my wedding. Father, please tell him.’
All eyes were now on Jack who slowly glanced up from his plate where he had carefully placed his knife and fork together.
‘I’m sorry, Izzie, but I’m only a guest here. It’s not my decision to make.’
Olivia breathed a sigh of relief. At least he had had the decency not to take it upon himself to answer. That would have been intolerable.
Taken aback, Isabel hesitated. ‘Then whose decision is it?’
Bertie sprang to her defence. ‘Izzie’s right. It would be awfully . . . unsuitable.’
Isabel’s face was flushed, her eyes wide. ‘Think of the gossip! It would be unbearable.’ She turned to her father. ‘It obviously isn’t your decision but you surely have an opinion.’
Olivia felt slightly hysterical. This should be interesting, she thought.
They all waited as Jack gave it some thought. ‘I think it would be a big distraction for the family at such a sensitive time,’ he said carefully. ‘Maybe if Mrs Anders understood that, she might make other arrangements.’
Olivia said, ‘Doesn’t she have a mother she could go to?’
Isabel turned to her brother. ‘This is Aunt Alice’s house, remember. I shall write and tell her what you are suggesting and I’m sure she will say no!’
Olivia was aware of an unkind frisson of satisfaction that their father could now see what he had been missing – family squabbles. Perhaps now he would change his mind and hurry back to wherever he had come from!
Luke raised his eyebrows. ‘Do you think so, Izzie? Aunt Alice didn’t want Father to come here but here he is! Just because it’s her house it doesn’t give her the right to tell us what to do while we’re living in it!’ They all looked at Jack who did not react. ‘Anyway, you can all stop fussing. It was my idea, not hers. She doesn’t know anything about it.’
Weak with relief Olivia said, ‘Anyway, Luke, you will be moving to Newquay immediately after the wedding. What would Fenella do then?’
‘She would come with me if I had my way but she’s afraid of Aunt Alice and might go and stay with her aunt in London.’
Olivia looked at him in disbelief. ‘So you pretended she had to come here just to upset us! What a mean thing to do.’
‘I’m feeling rather mean at the moment.’ His voice was flat but Olivia immediately guessed what had happened. He had asked Fenella to live with him somewhere, sometime, and she had refused. In his despair he was punishing anyone and everyone. But before she could think of comforting words Isabel jumped to her feet.
‘He did it to upset me! He’s just jealous because for once I’m the centre of attention!’ She faced her father. ‘He’s always been Aunt Alice’s favourite – the clever talented boy who never puts a foot wrong! Now it’s my turn to shine at my wedding he doesn’t like it!’
White-faced, Bertie tugged at her sleeve. ‘Don’t say any more, dearest. I think I should go home and you might fancy an early night.’ He pushed back his chair and stood up – a broad hint that she should do the same. ‘Don’t let him spoil things for us.’
Olivia knew that this was getting out of hand but didn’t know how to end it.
Bertie turned to Luke who had now risen to his feet. ‘I don’t understand you, Lucas. Do you like upsetting people? Is that it? Do you have to try and spoil our wedding?’
The two men faced each other angrily. Bertie said, ‘Don’t say another word!’
‘I don’t take orders—’
‘I said, “Don’t say another word!”’
Luke lashed out with his fist but Bertie was too quick for him and got in a blow of his own which caught Luke on the side of the chin and caught him off balance. Isabel screamed and Olivia jumped to her feet.
Luke fell awkwardly against the sideboard and gave a cry of pain, struggling back on to his feet nursing his right hand. ‘I think I’ve broken my wrist!’ he said, shocked out of his temper.
Olivia stared at him, horri
fied. His right hand was his painting hand. ‘Quick!’ She cried. ‘Hold it under the cold tap.’
Bertie was now holding Izzie who for once was silent. Bertie shook his head, making no apology. ‘It wasn’t a hard punch,’ he said. ‘He just fell awkwardly.’
Jack spoke up at last. ‘Hey! Don’t blame yourself. The kid was asking for it.’
Luke was flexing the fingers of his right hand and bending his wrist. ‘I think it’s fine.’
Now tearful, Isabel dabbed at her eyes with Bertie’s handkerchief as he led her out of the room. He paused to say, ‘Izzie’s going up to her room and staying there! I’m going home.’
Shocked, Olivia covered her face with her hands.
Jack said, ‘Let it go, Olivia. These things happen. You can’t blame yourself.’
Luke glared at him. ‘Welcome home, Father!’
Monday, 21st May
At last it has happened. Father turned up today and it was far from easy. He obviously felt the strain of a family muddling its way through life, and went to bed early pleading fatigue although I suspect he had had enough of us! I know I had! At Izzie’s insistence I had bought a bottle of champagne for Father’s first night home but I can see now it was a mistake.
Luke was in one of his difficult moods and upset Izzie, and Bertie punched him and Luke pretended to have a broken wrist! What a nightmare! I was mortified that our ‘visitor’ was seeing us at our very worst.
Izzie ended up in tears, naturally, and dashed off to bed without saying goodnight to anyone (and leaving me to clear the table and wash up. As always!). Even Bertie had had more than he could bear and went home early. I hate to think what he told his parents.
Father is something of an enigma and I shall write tomorrow to Aunt Alice demanding that she tells us exactly what happened that last evening when he decided to abscond. I feel strongly that now he has reappeared we are entitled to ask the questions that were always discouraged in the past. As a last resort I shall ask Father himself. He is a strange character. I feel he probably means well but no one is making a connection with him, least of all me (although Izzie tries to pretend they are practically soulmates). He has agreed to give her away at the wedding so that should cheer her up when she wakes up and remembers.
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