by Fanny Blake
‘But not this time,’ he went on. ‘I’m getting out of this on my own. Well, with a little help from Rose. I was wrong about Madison Gadding. It turned out they were still interested in the hotels individually. So she’s already helped me once by agreeing to sell the Canonford. That’s why she did it. Thank God. I took some of the money we had earmarked for the kids.’ His face was hidden but she could hear his shame. ‘But I will pay it back.’
‘Damn right you will. You took the kids’ money?’ Eve couldn’t believe what she was hearing? ‘And Rose knew all along?’ That was the greatest hurt of all. Not that he had kept his secret from her. She could understand that. And the money would be paid back somehow, she would make sure of that. But Rose!
‘She’s my sister,’ he said, as if it was unreasonable of Eve to expect Rose’s loyalty in the circumstances. ‘I had to tell someone.’
And you couldn’t tell me? But the words remained unsaid as Eve reeled, realising what this could mean to them.
Footsteps and laughter were coming in the direction of the folly.
‘Shit!’ Terry muttered under his breath, before stepping out into the shadows.
A girl screamed, then giggled as she recognised him. ‘Uncle Terry! My God, you scared me.’
‘Sorry, Dad. We didn’t think anyone would be here.’
Anna and Charlie. They must be on the hunt for somewhere to have a discreet spliff. Tough. Eve tipped her head back against the uneven wall of the folly, the flaking plaster catching at her hair. She raised a hand in protection. What a bloody mess her marriage was. Their individual lives had jolted on to parallel tracks, with neither of them really noticing what was happening. As each one had become more involved in their own interests, they had lost sight of what the other was doing. She would never have envisaged them becoming so separate, she reflected sadly. She heard Terry trip over something and swear. Then he appeared again, silhouetted against the furthest pillar.
‘They’ve gone,’ he said, taking off his right shoe and rubbing his big toe. ‘I don’t know which of them is worse, the way they lead each other on.’
‘Anna’s the oldest,’ she said, defensive of her boy.
‘But Charlie’s old enough to know what he’s doing,’ Terry said firmly, slipping his foot back, then joining her on the bench. He didn’t notice when she shifted away from him. ‘So now you know. Rose’ll be so pleased.’
‘Why? What’s it got to do with her?’ Eve couldn’t help her quite unreasonable jealousy that he’d taken Rose into his confidence first. After all, she was guilty of the same crime, confiding in Rose about Will, expecting her silence. Except, she thought, that was different.
‘I would have told Daniel,’ Terry explained, apparently aware for once of the swirling undercurrents. ‘But I had to talk to someone. The agency seems to have kept you busier than ever recently . . . I’ve hardly seen you.’
That was true. When she wasn’t actually working, there’d been those afternoons and evenings explained away by meetings with imaginary would-be clients or publishers when in fact she’d been spending them with Will. Grateful for the cover of darkness, she felt herself blush. Using that time to see Will meant that she’d had to spend more hours on her work at home. Nothing would stop her commitment to her clients.
‘And Rose is family. We own the business together,’ Terry went on. ‘She agreed to sell the Canonford so that I could cover my debts and so that we could have help financially. But then I put some – well, most of the money I took on a couple of sure-fire winners that weren’t placed. So I’m in trouble again.’
‘I don’t believe it. You haven’t even learned your lesson. And what about Daniel?’ she protested, unable to believe what she was hearing, suspecting that even now, he wasn’t telling her the whole truth. ‘He built up the business, those hotels are his.’ Someone had to speak up for him. The other two seemed to have forgotten the work, the passion that Daniel had put into those places.
‘He’s dead, Eve,’ Terry pointed out bluntly. ‘Rose and I don’t want the hotels. We never did. Just Trevarrick. And you know what? He’d be pleased to be helping us out of a spot.’
‘How can you call this a spot?’ she exploded. ‘How are we going to find that kind of money? He’d be absolutely horrified. How could you have let yourself get into this mess?’
And how could they? Again the words remained unsaid.
His shoulders slumped, arms hanging loose by his sides. ‘I’m ashamed. I am. But can’t you understand?’ he pleaded, looking towards her. ‘Rose thought you would.’
Eve clenched her jaw tight as he went on.
‘I had the money and the time, and the excitement made everything else disappear. I could forget I didn’t have a job, that I was letting you all down. I’ve promised Rose that I’ll get professional help, even though I don’t need it. I can stop without that.’ He reached out for her, but she stood up, ignoring his hand.
‘But you didn’t have the money, did you? What happened to your redundancy payment?’
Terry looked at the ground and didn’t reply. Then, in a small voice: ‘I was fired.’
‘What?’ Eve sat down again, forgetting the cold as she listened to him explain the truth of his situation, unable to believe what she was hearing. How could she not have noticed what was happening? Only too easily, said that small inner voice. You had the agency, Will. You weren’t interested. As Terry finished, she stood up to face him.
‘And our house? That’s everything we own – our history, our family. How could you risk it like that?’ The idea of losing the roof over their heads was terrifying. And the agency? How would this affect it? Would she have to consider selling up? But in this economic climate, who would buy? A couple of clients had already changed their mind about joining Amy, to her ex-colleague’s public fury. But this could destroy her. ‘How do I know it won’t happen again? How can I trust you now?’ Eve’s head was spinning. First Rose’s discovery about Daniel, and now this. How much they’d misjudged or misunderstood the men they’d married so many years ago. She stood up and took a step towards the garden, then turned back to look at him, bent over, a picture of despair.
‘I thought you’d understand.’
She only just caught what he said. In the distance, the waves still broke on the rocks and the music in the marquee wafted in their direction. An owl hooted.
‘I couldn’t have got through the last twenty-five years without you. I need you to help me get through this.’ He wrung his hands together. ‘I need Rose to sell the Arthur. But she won’t. With my share of the proceeds, I could put things back on track. With your help.’
‘You should have told me before . . .’ Eve didn’t move. Her instinct told her to go to him, to reassure him, to help him, but something prevented her.
Will.
This was the crisis point. Terry had just handed her a cast-iron reason to leave him. He had put everything they had on the line. Everything. But was that so different from what she had been doing?
‘Telling me in the middle of our party. How could you?’ She had a sudden urge to run away as far as she could, away from both her husbands for a brand-new, problem-free start. But that would solve nothing.
She stormed out of the folly, hearing him say something but not catching the words. She was too angry to stop and listen to any more of his excuses. Her immediate job was to appear as if nothing had happened. None of her family, none of her clients or friends must suspect anything was wrong. Tomorrow she and Terry would talk again. Then they would be sober and she would make him take her through everything that had happened, exactly what was owed and how he planned to repay it. She would change their joint bank accounts, so that only she had access to them. Nobody, but nobody, was going to take her home or her livelihood away from her.
Terry followed one or two steps behind, saying nothing as they approached the marquee. One or two of the tea lights on the path had burned out, but the party was still going strong.
He�
�d been right: no one had noticed their absence. Within moments, they were reabsorbed into the throng. A hard core of dancers had formed and were dancing more frenetically than ever, the younger generation at their centre, the older diehards at the perimeter. Jackets had been hooked over chair backs, bags and shoes were scattered by the tables. The more faint-hearted had retired to sit down or to stand by the bar. Even in the subtle lighting, faces were slick with sweat, the hairdos that had arrived so carefully styled were in disarray, shirts were untucked, ties loosened.
Eve needed a drink. Within seconds, a glass of wine was in her hand and she threw herself back into the proceedings as best she could. As quickly, she lost Terry, who was snatched up by someone needing a dance partner. Perhaps being told he was leaving her would have been easier. At least the decision wouldn’t be her responsibility. As she turned to talk to Helen Martin, a dumpy, bewhiskered older woman who was one of the most successful illustrators Eve had on her books, she caught sight of Jess, unmistakable in her sunflower dress, detaching herself from Adam’s knee and coming in her direction.
‘I’ll be back in a minute, Helen,’ she excused herself.
‘Is there anything more you need, Aunt Eve? Adam’s going back to the babysitter, but I’d like to go with him, if I could.’
Eve became aware of waitresses beginning to clear the tables of the party detritus. ‘Oh, but it’s not time to stop yet, is it?’ she asked, rather hoping the answer might be yes. Their guests would go to bed or back to their B&Bs and she could sleep on what needed to be said to Terry.
‘You can go on for as long as you like,’ Jess smiled, knowing how her aunt could party till the small hours in the right company. ‘But some of us have got to work tomorrow. If they clear the worst now, the rest can be done first thing in the morning. They won’t get in the way. You might have to turn the music down, though. Just for those who’ve gone to bed already.’
Being treated like a rebellious teenager by her niece was ridiculous but kind of flattering at the same time. ‘Don’t worry, Jess. I’ll make sure they behave. They’ll park their Zimmers in an orderly way.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Jess grinned at her. ‘But you know what I mean.’ She looked around the marquee. ‘I haven’t seen Mum for ages, so I guess she must have gone.’
‘She must,’ agreed Eve, remembering how much she wanted to hear Rose’s side of her involvement in Terry’s story, not to mention what she was going to do about Simon. What an unholy mess they were in. ‘You go, and I’ll make sure no damage is done.’
‘Thanks.’ Jess kissed both her cheeks as she wished her good night. Eve watched the pair of them leave the marquee, arms tight round each other, Jess’s head leaning into Adam’s shoulder. Adam gave Jess everything she needed. If only Daniel could have seen that.
‘Shall we?’ Johnny Sheringham was standing beside her, ruddy-faced but beaming. His bow tie had twisted almost in a right angle and was resisting its owner’s attempts to straighten it. He and his wife had been their neighbours in Cambridge for as long as she could remember. Pam was in a care home in the final stages of dementia – at sixty-three. How much more unfair life could be.
‘Yes,’ she said, taking his proffered hand as if they were about to dance a gavotte. ‘I’d love to.’ If he could shelve his problems for an evening, she could certainly shelve hers, or pretend to. Life was short. There was nothing she could do now but enjoy herself and make a start on sorting things out in the morning, when she’d had time to absorb thoroughly what Terry had told her, find out exactly what their financial position was, and think through what needed to be done.
27
‘Yes, I’m absolutely certain that I want us to sell the damn place,’ Rose declared in answer to Eve’s question. ‘For a start, I want to help the two of you out of this mess my brother has got you into, and second, I don’t want anything to do with somewhere that meant so much to Daniel and Simon and nothing whatsoever to me. I can’t bear to think of them canoodling together over their plans.’ Her face was set, warning Eve not to say any more.
They were in the hotel lounge, looking out at the thick sea fret that had blown in from offshore: one of those unpredictable turns of Cornish weather. The marquee was still there, its shape just visible through the mist. Most of the guests had left the previous day, and Eve and Terry had waved goodbye to the stragglers that morning, putting on such a good show that no one would have guessed they were barely speaking. There had been little chance for them to have anything other than snatched exchanges. Terry remained contrite but monosyllabic, eager that no one should get wind of what had happened. The longer conversation Eve was resolved they would have had to wait. After lunch, he had gone upstairs for a much-needed lie-down. Denied a walk by the weather, the two women had opted for the comfort of the great indoors and a cream tea.
Eve poured them both a second cup. They were curled on either end of the large central sofa, in the midst of a thorough post-mortem on the weekend. Eve had spent a second hung-over morning in succession nursing her anger with Terry and her irritation that Rose hadn’t told her about his gambling. When she said as much, Rose was short. ‘If someone – whoever it is – asks me to keep a secret, I do,’ she’d bitten back. ‘That’s why I haven’t said anything to Terry about Will. Cuts both ways.’ Eve could do nothing but accept her point. So their friendship lurched forward, ruffled but still intact.
‘I don’t expect it was quite like that,’ Eve ventured now, wondering despite herself what it had been like between Simon and Daniel. Not something she could speculate over with Rose, however. ‘I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you, especially when you and Simon have become such friends.’
‘I can’t even think about that, and I certainly don’t want the Arthur. Truly. Daniel was the hotelier, not me, not Terry.’ Rose punched the faded blue cushion to emphasise her point. ‘Now you can take charge, clear Terry’s debts, begin to sort him out. And selling the place means I can help the girls with some of the rest. The garden centre’s taking off more slowly than expected, despite Rick’s steadying influence . . . but it’s early days. And Jess and Adam could always do with some extra cash.’
‘You’re being incredibly generous.’ Eve put the pot down, thinking that that sounded like a lot of responsibility heaped on Rose’s shoulders. How would she cope?
‘Not really. Daniel’s left me comfortably enough off, and I don’t need the hassle of the business. I don’t want to run the hotels in any capacity. Keeping Trevarrick’s enough for me. Besides, seeing Adam’s work and listening to him talk about it has inspired me. I’m going to take my painting seriously again, before it’s too late. Simon went on and on about it, and Adam’s given me that final nudge. In fact, he’s asked me to come and stay down here in a few months to help out. During my spare time, I’ll have the ideal opportunity.’
‘When did that happen?’
‘This morning, after breakfast. Jess’s pregnant and worried about how she’s going to cope, so they want me to come and help. She told him yesterday and this is his solution. I’m looking forward to it.’
‘But that’s wonderful news.’ Eve shunted herself across the sofa to hug Rose. They held each other close for a moment. Over Rose’s shoulder, Eve gazed at a picture of St Michael’s Mount, its silhouette small against a dramatic cloud-filled sky. On the table beneath it, the day’s papers had been neatly folded. She gave Rose an extra squeeze before detaching herself and moving back to where she’d been sitting. ‘They must be over the moon. I wish mine would get on and produce something. I’m quite jealous.’
‘But Jess is worried sick about how she’s going to manage.’ Rose sounded suddenly anxious. ‘There’s no Dan to turn to and of course Simon’s not going to be here in charge of the builders.’
‘You told her?’ Eve couldn’t hide her astonishment.
‘I had to. How could I explain away his disappearance otherwise? More importantly, I think I owe the girls the truth. There’s been enough lying
in this family.’
Eve understood that Rose meant her as well.
Simon had gone without saying goodbye to either of them. He had left an envelope in the cubbyhole for Rose’s room. She was with Eve when she picked it up, but had slipped it into her bag unopened. ‘Whatever he’s got to say can wait,’ she’d said, that closed look coming over her face again.
‘And? How did she take it?’ Eve couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been for Rose to break the news of Daniel’s betrayal not only of her, but of the family, something that had been so important to both of them. Until those final weeks of his life, Jess had been so close to her father. She must have been devastated. Eve wondered whether Rose had done the right thing in her haste to have everything in the open. In her shoes, she would certainly have been more circumspect.
Rose pulled a face. ‘He’d left her a note saying he’d gone away on unexpected business, but I had to tell her the truth. I lay awake all night agonising about whether or not the girls should know. But you know what? They’re adults, and if they were to find out somehow from someone else, that would be much, much worse. It’s better they know and we can deal with it together. If I didn’t tell them, then I’d have been complicit in Dan’s betrayal of us. That’s what it was, after all, and there’s been enough of that.’
Eve found it impossible to imagine taking such a decision. Wouldn’t it have been better to leave things to fate, trusting that the girls wouldn’t find out? Wasn’t ignorance bliss?
‘She was utterly distraught, of course. She refused to believe it at first. Why would she? But once I told her everything Simon said, showed her the libretto, she started remembering little signs that she didn’t recognise at the time when they were here together. That was hard to hear.’
Eve gave her an inquisitive look.
‘Oh, you know, the odd shared joke and sidelong look, that sort of thing.’ Rose screwed up her nose. ‘I can’t bear to think of it. But at least we’ve got a reason for Dan being so particularly bad-tempered during those last months. He must have been fighting his demons.’ She noticed Eve’s startled expression. ‘Too psycho-speak for you? Jess and I wondered if the stress of having a secret relationship . . .’ She gave up in the face of Eve’s obvious scepticism. ‘But if she believes that, then at least she can stop blaming herself for his death. And that at least would be a good thing to come out of this.’ Rose took a scone and sliced it in half. ‘Want a bit?’
