by Rosie Clarke
‘Yes, you’ve done well for yourself,’ my mother said. ‘And what’s more, you’ve done it all your own way.’
‘Well, I had help, and those coins started me on my way,’ I said, ‘but I’ve worked hard.’
‘And now you’ve reaped the rewards.’ She looked about her. ‘Who would have thought you would ever be able to afford to take a lovely, big house like this for three weeks, Emma? Much nicer than staying in a boarding house or a hotel, and someone paid to come in and clean for us, too! I’ve never had a holiday like this before – and it’s all due to my clever daughter.’
‘You deserve it, Mum. I’m just glad you and Bert came with us on the holiday.’
This was a very different holiday to the one the children and I had spent in Southend with Sheila; there we had spent a lot of time shopping and visiting the pleasure beach, here we spent a part of every day walking and visiting various beauty spots. The Cornish countryside had a wildness, a raw exciting atmosphere that appealed to my son.
James wanted to take a thousand pictures. He never left the house without the camera Jack had given him. A part of the present had been what seemed a never-ending supply of films, but as the days passed I realized I would soon have to buy more. Far from becoming tired of his plaything, James’s enthusiasm grew ever stronger.
‘This is wonderful, Mum,’ he told me, his eyes glowing with excitement. ‘The best holiday ever – except for that summer with Jack. And this camera is the best present I’ve ever had.’
My heart twisted with regret. I had not thought when I sent Jack away how much my son would miss because of my actions. Nothing I could do would ever quite make up for the loss of his daddy.
I had given James everything I could, but there were some things I had not been able to provide. My son wanted a father and the father he had chosen was Jack Harvey.
At least he was enjoying this holiday. He was always taking pictures of Lizzy. Wherever we went, Lizzy was required to pose in front of sweeping scenes of cliffs, sea and sky, or quaint cottages and abandoned fishing boats. She did so with infinite patience, seeming to find no fault in obeying her hero’s latest whim.
‘Why not take a picture of Grandma and Uncle Bert?’ I suggested one afternoon after poor Lizzy had been made to stand for ages as James tried to get the exact angle he wanted. He was an exacting taskmaster! ‘Let Lizzy have a rest, darling.’
‘She isn’t tired,’ James said carelessly. ‘She likes having her picture taken – don’t you, Lizzy?’
‘Sometimes,’ she said. ‘Let’s do something else now. Can we go down to the village and buy ice creams, Emmie?’
‘Yes, of course. Be careful though, keep away from the edge of the cliff. James, make sure you take care of her.’
‘I always take care of Lizzy,’ he said. ‘She’s going to be my star when I’m a famous director.’
‘Yes, darling. You told me so …’ I smiled as I watched them go off together. James had his beloved camera in a leather case, the long strap slung over his shoulder. ‘Don’t be too long …’
It was growing late in the afternoon and the children had not yet returned. I was beginning to feel anxious. The cliff face was steep in places and could be dangerous to a young child.
‘I should never have let them go alone,’ I said to Sarah. ‘It’s almost six o’clock. It was just after four when they went to get those ice creams – that’s two hours.’
‘Perhaps I should go and look for them?’ Sarah was anxious, too. ‘James is sensible, but Lizzy can sometimes be reckless.’
‘You go to the village,’ I said. ‘I’m going to try that cove James likes so much – the one that is hidden away from the port, with all the rocks and trees on the cliffside. He was talking about going back there again before we leave.’
‘Should I say anything to Mr and Mrs Fitch?’
‘No – not yet. I’ll just tell them I’m going for a walk. We don’t want them to worry for nothing.’
I was worried myself. I had not thought anything very terrible could happen in this tranquil place. Besides, James was so independent. I knew he hated being watched over all the time, and it was only a short distance down the hill to the cafe where the children usually bought their ice creams – but I should have gone with them.
Had something bad happened? Supposing one of them had fallen? The cliffs were sheer in some places, but they had been warned not to go near them. James would never leave Lizzy if she was frightened or hurt. Had Lizzy the sense to come home for us if it was James who had fallen?
What if they were both hurt? Why hadn’t I taken them to get their ice creams myself?
The beauty of the softly wooded slope leading down to the secluded cove was lost on me as I made my way to the beach. The air was scented, warm and gentle on my skin, as the sky changed colour, the sun sinking into the horizon. I was blind to the peace and tranquillity of the scene, my pulses racing as I scrambled down the steep incline. All I could think of was that the children might be in danger, might even be dead – and then, when I was close to desperation, I saw them.
Lizzy was sitting on a rock at the edge of the water, a gorgeous sunset behind her turning the sea to orange and black. She was naked, her clothes a little further up the beach. James was taking yet another photograph!
As I watched, Lizzy stretched out on the rock, arching her body like a little Sea Siren at the behest of her director. My instinct was to shout at them but I controlled it. There was nothing evil about what they were doing. I was quite sure that James was thinking only of the pictures he was taking and did not realize what he had done by persuading Lizzy to pose like this.
‘James,’ I said as I went up to him. ‘What on earth do you think you are doing? Lizzy will catch a chill – and that rock could be dangerous. If she slipped she might hurt herself.’
James looked round at me, and I caught a flash of guilt in his eyes.
‘She’s all right, Mum. It’s not cold.’
‘You shouldn’t have asked Lizzy to take her clothes off, James. It isn’t right.’
‘Why? There are lots of naked girls in that book you bought me.’
He was right, of course. It hadn’t occurred to me that James would want to copy the poses he saw in his book, but I should have known my son.
‘Yes, I know …’ I hesitated, not wanting to make too much of the incident. ‘But they are much older than Lizzy. She might feel upset or embarrassed about the pictures one day. I think you should throw the film away, and I don’t think you should ask Lizzy to do something like that again. Not until she is grown up and understands what she’s doing. It’s not fair to her, James. Photography is your hobby. Lizzy always wants to please you, but she might be cross about it one day.’
I called to Lizzy. She came at once, pulling her clothes on hastily. I knew she was anxious, afraid that I was going to punish her or James, and ready to accept the blame to save him.
‘I didn’t mean to be naughty, Emmie.’
‘It wasn’t naughty, Lizzy. I would just rather you didn’t do it again – not until you’re grown up and understand what it means.’
‘I told James it was rude,’ she said. ‘But he said it was art. And that I would be famous one day.’
‘Some people would think it was rude,’ I said. ‘Others would agree with James. I don’t think it’s rude, just not right for you, darling. When you’re older you will understand.’
‘Are you cross?’
‘No, I’m not cross, but Sarah and Grandma might not understand. They might think it was naughty, so we’ll keep it a secret between us three, shall we?’
Lizzy nodded. She had obviously been reluctant to pose naked, but had given in to James, as she usually did eventually. His own expression was a mixture of guilt and annoyance that he had been caught. I suspected he was well aware that he should not have asked Lizzy to take her things off, but he was also disappointed that he hadn’t managed to get the pictures he wanted.
For the fi
rst time, I began to believe that James really would achieve his ambition one day. There was a certain ruthlessness in him that could have come from Paul Greenslade – but hadn’t I taught him that when you wanted something you went out after it?
I wanted to share my secret with someone. James’s behaviour had shocked me at first, but only for a moment. Afterwards, I was secretly amused. I had told James he must destroy the film, and he had given it to me the next morning
‘There’s nothing on it, Mum,’ he said. ‘I’ve let the light in so the pictures won’t come out.’
‘Thank you, darling.’
I threw the film away, relieved that the pictures of Lizzy on that rock would never be seen.
My mother would not have been amused by the incident, nor would Sarah. I might have told Jon if we had ever been alone together, but we never were these days.
Jon spent some time playing cricket with James and Lizzy on the lawn. He was unable to drive the car, because of his hand, which although better than it had been did not allow him to use the gears, but accompanied us to various beauty spots, and seemed to be enjoying the outings. However, at other times he went for long walks on his own. Often, he was gone for hours.
‘It’s beautiful here,’ he said to me when we were eating warm scones, clotted cream and strawberry jam at a pleasant little restaurant. It was a fine afternoon and the last we would have to relax before packing up to go home. ‘I’ve had lots of ideas down here, Emma. I think you were right about buying a holiday home. I might come down again after we go back … use the trains and local buses to get about. See if I can find somewhere suitable.’
‘You haven’t seen anything yet?’
‘No – have you?’
I shook my head. We had been away for almost three weeks. I was ready to go home; the last thing on my mind was buying a house, even though I had suggested it.
‘Poor Emma,’ Jon said and smiled at me in his gentle way. ‘You’re not really happy here, are you?’
The children were playing on some nearby swings. I looked at Jon, struck by something in his tone.
‘Why do you say that? I’ve enjoyed our holiday.’
‘Yes, but it wouldn’t suit you to live in the country or at the sea,’ he said. ‘Even somewhere as beautiful as this would bore you before long.’
‘I like coming to the sea for holidays.’ I was defensive, nervous, unsure of what he meant.
‘Do you ever think of that estate – the cottage where we spent our honeymoon? I should like to go back this September. Scotland is beautiful in September.’
‘Yes, I remember you telling me.’ I frowned. ‘I’m not sure I can manage September, Jon. We’re always busy then with the autumn stock coming in.’
‘You don’t need to come, Emma. I was thinking about the house. It’s probably best for me to buy something that suits me. You won’t be there that much, but I think I shall. I’ve found my writing comes much easier down here. If I’m somewhere not too far from a mainline station, I can come and go as I please – and you can visit at weekends.’
He was talking about us living separate lives. I felt a chill at the nape of my neck. Was this the way it would be in the future?
‘Why, Jon? I thought you wanted us to be together?’
‘I do, Emma. Of course I do – most of the time. But I also need somewhere I can come to be alone. I’m sorry. I know this sounds selfish, but I can’t live with you all the time, my darling. I love you, and I’m grateful for the way you’ve stood by me, but I have to do what’s right – for us both.’
‘I want to be with you.’
‘Sometimes,’ Jon said, his eyes intent on my face. ‘Yes, I know you love me. But you don’t need me, Emma. You have the children and your friends – and your work, of course. I’m only a small part of all that. Don’t force me to live your life, my darling. Let me go. Please? Let me go and come back to you when I can …’
My heart felt as if it were being torn apart.
‘I do need you, Jon. The children need you …’
‘You know that’s not true. I’m just a guest in your house as far as they are concerned. It was too long, Emma. For more than six years I was just a vague memory for James. Other people took my place in his affections. I understand that. It’s no one’s fault.’ Something flickered in his eyes. ‘It might have been better if I had never come back.’
‘Please don’t say that,’ I begged, my throat threatening to close. ‘We were going to be a family again.’
‘We still can be,’ Jon said, reaching out to stroke my cheek. ‘Don’t look so hurt, Emma. I’m not abandoning you. I’m just asking you to understand that I need my own place – I need to take things at my own speed.’ He smiled to ease my pain. ‘You and James have so much energy. I can’t keep up with you. Forgive me, please?’
‘There’s nothing to forgive.’
‘I’m not saying I want us to separate.’ He ran his thumb over my mouth. ‘It won’t be so very different from the way it has been, darling. We’ll still see each other often, just as we did when I was in hospital.’
‘Yes, of course. You must do whatever you want, Jon.’
I was close to weeping, but I held back the tears and the protests. I had to let go if that was what he needed, but it was a painful end to our holiday. Much of what Jon said was true. I had the children, my friends and my work – but that still left a gaping hole at the centre of my life.
At that moment I had no idea how I was going to fill the emptiness inside me.
Chapter 5
‘I’m not sure this partnership idea is such a good thing,’ Sol said that morning. I’d been back from Cornwall for two weeks and I was meeting Philip Matthews for lunch at the Savoy that day. ‘I should think long and hard about this if I were you, Emma.’
‘Why?’ I stared at him in surprise. ‘I thought you approved of Philip?’
‘He’s a good customer,’ Sol admitted. ‘But I’m not sure about him as a man, Emma. I can’t tell you why. There’s nothing obviously wrong – but just be careful.’
‘Yes, of course. I shall ask you to look through the contract before I sign.’
‘It’s not just business.’ He shook his head as I raised my brows. ‘Perhaps I’m speaking out of turn … but does Jon know about this?’
‘I mentioned the possibility,’ I replied, not quite meeting his eyes. ‘Jon wasn’t interested. He says what I do with my business is my own concern.’
Sol looked anxious as he picked something up from my tone.
‘You haven’t quarrelled with him, Emma?’
‘No, we haven’t quarrelled.’ I sighed wearily. ‘Jon just wants to find his own way. We’re not exactly separating, but Jon won’t be here often in the future. Not once he finds a suitable house. He’ll come to town now and then, and I’ll visit the house …’ My throat caught on a sob. ‘But that’s about it.’
‘I’m so sorry, my dear.’ Sol seemed disturbed. ‘I had suspected things weren’t right between the two of you, but I thought you might be able to work them out in time.’
‘This isn’t my idea – and it has nothing to do with Philip. I’m not interested in him other than as a business associate.’
‘Well, you know best, Emma. I wouldn’t dream of interfering – but be careful of Philip. I’m not sure I trust him.’
‘I promise I shall be careful,’ I said and smiled at him. ‘I do trust you, Sol. Completely. If I have any reason to suspect he’s not being fair to me, I’ll come straight to you. I give you my word.’
Sol nodded and the subject was dropped. As I went upstairs to change for my luncheon appointment, I wondered why my friend of so many years was against my taking up Philip Matthews’ offer.
Recalling that unguarded moment in Cornwall, when I had glimpsed something in his eyes, I suspected jealousy. Could Sol be jealous because he thought I might turn to Philip in my disappointment at Jon’s rejection of our marriage?
That would imply that Sol’s feeli
ng were much stronger than the friendship I had believed he felt for me. Was that possible? He had loved Margaret so much. While she lived, Sol had treated me almost like a daughter – but had his feelings for me changed?
I was not sure how I would feel if that were the case. I loved Sol as a friend, but that was all. There was still only one man I wanted to make love with, and that was Jack Harvey.
I had been willing to live as Jon’s wife in every way, but that was not possible. The physical relationship Jon needed would never happen. We both knew that in our hearts. Now that Jon had decided to find a home of his own, we would probably drift further and further apart. I found that thought very depressing.
Perhaps if my marriage had been happier, I would not have bothered to keep that appointment with Philip, but it might have made little difference.
There were times when I felt overwhelmingly lonely, moments when I had no interest in whether my shops were successful or not. Yet somewhere inside me a strong ambition still burned.
Philip’s offer had set me a challenge, and it was in a spirit of adventure that I went to meet him that day.
‘I’ve always admired you,’ Philip said as the waiter hovered. ‘Would you like some more wine, Emma? Or a brandy perhaps?’
‘Thank you, no,’ I said. ‘I wouldn’t mind coffee.’
‘We’ll have it in the lounge.’ He nodded to the attentive waiter, who drew back my chair solicitously and handed me my bag. ‘A pot of coffee – and petit fours, please.’
We made our way into an elegantly furnished lounge. Philip spotted a vacant table in the corner. It was partially separated from the others by a tall, fronded plant in a jardinière, and very suitable for a private conversation.
‘So we’re in broad agreement on the contract,’ Philip said as we settled ourselves down. ‘I’ll have my lawyers draw it up and send it to yours. Any small differences can be ironed out by them.’
‘Yes, I think we can go that far,’ I replied. ‘I shall talk it over with Sol, and if he feels everything is satisfactory I see no reason why we shouldn’t go ahead.’
