by Sharon Booth
"What does that matter? You're going to the classes to keep up with your classmates?"
Alice tutted. "They're not our classmates. At least, not anymore."
Light was beginning to dawn. "You mean, you go to the classes to catch up with your old schoolfriends? The ones from your previous school?"
They nodded. "Yes. We really miss them, but Mummy wants us to make new friends and play with the girls at our new school, and we don't like them half as much. They don't want to play with us, anyway. Mummy said we have to concentrate on making new friends, never mind our old ones, but she doesn't realise our old friends go to the classes." Alice sighed. "I did try to make new friends, you know. I went to Dahlia Robertson's house once for tea, and it was awful. It was when I first started at the school, and I think I was only invited so they could be nosy. Her mother was really stuck up, and she wanted me to tell her all about Daddy's job. What's it got to do with her? I fibbed and told her he was the Prime Minister, and she gave me a funny look and didn't ask me round again. Dahlia told everyone at school she wasn't allowed to talk to me anymore because I was a—a fantasy."
"A fantasist," I said absently. So, Alice and Robyn hated their new school, and all those activities that drove poor Tamsin mad and cost her so much money were just ways of getting to see their old friends? What a waste of time and money. There was a distinct lack of communication in their little family, and it made me wonder what other misunderstandings they were paying for. I stood up, brushing grass from the back of my skirt.
"Where are you going?" Robyn asked, squinting up at me as the sun shone in her face.
"I just have something to do," I told her. "How about you two go and wash up for tea, and see if Grandma wants any help? If you ask very nicely, she may even let you have strawberries for afters."
They looked quite pleased about that, especially when I added that I was pretty sure they'd be allowed cream with them, and headed into the kitchen to pester Mum. I dashed upstairs to the little back bedroom that had been mine since I was about nine, when Tamsin's makeup had taken over the bigger bedroom that we'd shared, causing me to throw a massive strop and insist that the ‘box room’ be cleared for me.
I couldn't remember why I had Brad's mobile number in my phonebook. I just knew it was there. It might have had something to do with Tamsin's birthday one year—some party that he'd arranged for her, back in the days when he actually cared, and he'd called me about it. I must have stored the number out of habit.
I jabbed at the phone screen and held the phone to my ear as I listened to the dial tone. Brad answered, just when I was on the point of giving up and throwing the phone across the room in despair.
"Cara? What is it? What's happened?" He sounded genuinely worried, which wasn't surprising, given that I'd never rung him before in my life. "Is it the kids? Tamsin?"
"Both of the above," I answered shortly. "You need to get your sorry arse to Mum and Dad's, Brad, and sort this mess out, once and for all. And, quite frankly, I'm not going to take no for an answer."
#
We'd eaten a really tasty tea of chips, quiche and salad, followed by strawberries and cream. Mum and I did the pots afterwards, and she confided in me that she was worried sick about Tamsin. "Did you notice? She never had a go at me for giving the kids chips," she said anxiously. "And all that cream they poured on their strawberries. She wouldn't have let them get away with that a few months ago. What are we going to do about her, Cara?"
"Don't worry, Mum. It's all in hand," I said confidently, hanging up the tea towel and closing the cupboard door. "Things will get sorted today, one way, or the other."
She eyed me suspiciously. "What have you done?"
"You'll see. Someone had to do something, and I guess it fell to me."
"Oh, hell." She wiped the taps with a dishcloth. "If this all goes wrong, it's on your head." She winked at me. "Mind you, if it goes well, it was down to me."
"Okay," I said. "Seeing as you invited us all down to sort things, I guess I can give you that."
Mum glanced across at Dad, as he wiped the table. "Are you all right, Ray?"
"I'm fine, love. Right as rain," he assured her.
"Why wouldn't he be?" I said. "He's only wiping the table, not building one." I looked from one to the other of them. "Is there something you're not telling me?"
"Don't be so paranoid." Dad hooked his arm over my shoulder. "Like we said, I was a bit rundown and feeling a bit low about retiring. That holiday away has done me the power of good, and I'm fit as a fiddle now. Mind you, can I say the same about you?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"You've lost weight," he observed. "Quite a bit of weight."
"That's a good thing. I'd got very porky. I was barely fitting into my clothes."
He tutted. "Nothing wrong with having a bit of meat on the bone. Are you sure you're all right, love? Me and your mum couldn't believe you'd walked out on that man, at last. It must have taken some courage."
"It would have taken more to stay. I'm just sorry it took me so long."
"And what about now?" Mum's brow creased. "What's this new job like? Are you happy? Are you settled?"
"It will do for now," I said vaguely.
I didn't want to make them any more anxious than they already were. How could I tell them that the job wasn't permanent? Adele would be going to school before I knew it, and I would be looking for another job and another home. Then there was the little matter of my growing attraction towards, and liking for, Ethan Rochester. That could come to no good. He was way, way out of my league and would grow tired of me very quickly.
Besides, I had to find my own way. I had to find something that I was actually good at, and make a new career for myself. A new life. And no man could distract me from that task, particularly one so obviously superior to me as Ethan. The problem was going to be keeping a clear head while I stayed at Moreland Hall. I had to remember that there was no future in it, and that falling for him would only bring me more unhappiness.
"What do you mean, for now?" Mum demanded. "What are you planning?"
A loud knock on the door saved me from having to answer. We all looked at each other, and Dad narrowed his eyes. "Expecting someone, Cara?"
I shrugged. "I had to do something. This is for the best, really it is."
He heaved a big sigh. "So much for the peace and quiet of retirement. I'd better go and answer the door, then."
"I'll go," I said. "One of you had better warn Tamsin."
"I'll take the kids upstairs," Mum said, but I put my hand on her arm. "Not yet, Mum. They need to see him. They've really missed him, and I daresay he's missed them, too."
She hesitated, but nodded, and hurried into the living room to warn my sister. Dad looked at me. "Here we go, then. Round two."
Brad was pale when I opened the door to him. He'd lost weight, too, and there were dark shadows under his eyes. If he was living it up with some other woman, it didn't appear to have brought him much joy. "Hi, Cara."
His voice was different, humbler. My heart went out to him. "Come in, Brad."
Tamsin looked horror-struck when we walked into the living room, but any protest she may have made was drowned out by the delighted shrieks from Alice and Robyn, who hurled themselves at their father. I watched him crouch down to gather them to him, and when he lifted his face, there were tears in his eyes. I looked across at my sister, huddled in the chair, her arms wrapped around herself as if for protection. She chewed her lip and stared at her husband, fear in her face.
"Tamsin." He simply stared back at her, seeming unable to say anything else.
"I think we'll leave you to it," Mum said. She held out her arms to the girls. "Come on, lovelies. Let's leave Mummy and Daddy to talk for a while, shall we?"
"You won't go without telling us?" Robyn pleaded, reluctant to let go of Brad's hand.
He shook his head. "I promise," he managed, his voice choked.
Alice kissed him, and Robyn threw
her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, then they followed Mum out of the room.
"Talk to each other," I ordered. "And listen. Both of you."
Then I left them to it and headed into the kitchen to sit with Mum and Dad, as they tried valiantly to entertain two clearly anxious children.
It was about an hour later, when Tamsin popped her head round the door. Her face was blotchy and swollen with crying, her lids heavy, and she looked frozen. "We're just going out for a walk," she told us. "We won't be too long. Will you be okay with the girls?"
"Of course," Dad said. "Get off with you."
"At least we can watch the telly now," Mum said, with forced brightness. "Come on, girls. Let's see what's on, shall we?"
Whatever was on, it didn't seem to hold their attention very well. In fact, they were extremely restless, and who could blame them? Whatever Brad and Tamsin were talking about, they were definitely being thorough about it. Was that a good thing, I wondered? Or were they taking their time because they had to sort out the divorce? Custody, access, the house, that sort of thing. I really hoped I'd done the right thing, forcing Tamsin to face up to the state of her marriage.
When they finally came home, the girls were just about falling asleep, and Mum was making fretful noises about getting them to bed.
I relaxed when I saw that they were holding hands, and Tamsin's face, although tear-streaked, was smiling. Brad looked like a new man.
"What happened?" Mum looked from one to the other. "Is it sorted?"
Tamsin glanced at Brad, and he pulled her to him and smiled down at her. "It is," he confirmed. "I'm coming home."
The girls shrieked with excitement and rushed over to him, and Tamsin smiled across at me and mouthed, ‘Thank you.’
I winked at her, feeling so happy I could burst.
After the girls had gone to bed, Tamsin and Brad sat with us in the living room, Brad having accepted Mum and Dad's invitation to stay over so they could all go home together the next day. As we drank wine, they explained what they'd been talking about, and what they'd discovered.
"It was all my fault," Tamsin said, shaking her head.
Brad took her hand. "No it wasn't. It was both of us. We stopped listening, stopped talking. It takes two to ruin a marriage."
"And two to fix it," she said. "Or, in our case," she added, glancing across at me affectionately, "three."
"Thank you so much for calling me, Cara," Brad said. "I would never have had the nerve to come here, if you hadn't told me what you told me."
"I can't believe the girls feel like that about school," Tamsin said, still clearly shocked. "They never said a word. All that time and money, running around after them, and all the time, they just wanted to be with their old friends at their old school. Well, as soon as we get home, that's the first thing we'll sort out. I'll be glad to see the back of that dratted school, anyway."
"So, the children were only going to all those activities to meet up with their pals?" Dad shook his head, laughing. "You two have been a bit daft, haven't you?"
Brad nodded. "And not just about the girls," he admitted. "Talk about crossed wires. I was working all the hours God sends, worrying about Tamsin's spending habits. She seemed to live for the house and these wretched activities that the girls were doing. Then there were the classes she attended herself, and the constant demands for alterations and redecoration in the house. I felt as if the only thing I was there for was to make money. I worked myself into the ground, and I was just too exhausted to do anything else. And it made me resentful and angry. In the end, I thought, well, let her have the money. I may as well move out because, clearly, it's the bank account that matters, and she can have that, no matter what."
"Oh, Tamsin, how could you?" Mum said reproachfully.
"But I was only filling my time with classes and doing up the house because I missed Brad so much!" Tamsin exclaimed, somewhat defensively. "I hated the fact that he seemed to care far more about his job than he did about me and the children. I thought he preferred the office to home, and I felt so resentful and lonely. All that time," she added, gazing up at her husband, "and we were each missing the other, and longing for a normal life, and neither of us knew it."
Brad sighed. "If only one of us had the courage to say something."
"Well, it will all be different from now on," Tamsin said determinedly. "The kids can leave that wretched school, which will save us a fortune, and once they're back at their old place, they can pick one out-of-school activity, and the rest will be dropped. I shouldn't imagine they'll care, as they'll be back with their friends all day. Why they didn't just tell me they missed them, I can't imagine."
"Same reason you didn't tell Brad you missed him, I suppose," Dad pointed out.
She blushed. "Yeah. Fair point. Anyway, after that, we're putting the house on the market and finding somewhere smaller and cheaper, and Brad's going to cut down his hours, while I go to college and do my course, then we're going into business together."
"Into business?" I said astonished. "Doing what?"
"Once I qualify as a florist, Brad's going to set me up with my own little flower shop. He's going to do all the accounts and business stuff, and I'll be doing the flowers. We'll be worse off financially, no doubt, but with no school fees and a reduced mortgage, it should be do-able."
"And I shall put money aside in the meantime," Brad added. "It will be a couple of years before Tamsin qualifies, so we have time to plan and put things in place."
"Are you sure about this?" Dad looked worried. "New businesses are risky, especially in these uncertain times."
"I can always do freelance stuff," Brad said. "If we need extra income, I can make it. That's not a problem. I just want to support my wife and be with her. I've had a hell of a shock. I really thought we were over. I'm not about to let her go again."
"You won't get the chance," Tamsin promised him. "I'll superglue you to my side, if I have to. I can't go through all this again. I love you so much."
Mum, Dad and I pulled faces and made mocking noises as they kissed, but I knew my parents would be just as delighted about the outcome as I was. It seemed I'd done the right thing, after all. Which just left my own life to sort out.
Chapter Twenty-Six
It was no use denying it to myself. As I walked down the drive of Moreland Hall, bag in hand, I experienced a feeling of joy that I struggled to contain, and I was all too aware that, to me, it felt as if I was coming home.
Mrs F had sounded thrilled over the intercom. "You're back! I'm so pleased. Hurry up, and I'll make you a cup of tea."
Mrs F's wonderful, strong cups of tea. The answer to a million problems. I couldn't wait. Unable to wipe the smile off my face, I almost ran down the drive and hurried round the back way, letting myself in through the kitchen door.
I was pulled into a hug, then Mrs F stepped back and examined me. I'm not sure what she was expecting to find, but she seemed satisfied at any rate.
"You're looking well," she said, clearly reassured.
"I've only been away two days," I said, amused. "What did you expect? That I'd have rickets, or scurvy, or something?"
"You never know," she said sagely. "Now, sit yourself down, and I'll make you that drink."
"Where is everyone?" I kept my tone casual as I put the bag on the floor and sank into a chair.
"Mrs Rochester's taken Adele into York, shopping. Michael's driven them. I'm not entirely sure where Mr Rochester is, but he's around somewhere."
"I'm sure he is." I took the mug of tea from her hand and sipped on it gratefully. "Oh, this is lovely, Mrs F. No one makes a cuppa like you do."
"Even your own mother?" she enquired.
"Even my own mother, but please, never tell her I said so."
She laughed and sat down next to me. "It is good to have you home, love. How are things with your family? Not that I'm prying, mind."
"Of course you're not," I said. "But you'll be pleased to know, I'm sure, that eve
rything with the family is perfect. All our problems seem to have been fixed."
She beamed at me. "That's wonderful."
Wasn't it? Except—except I had an empty feeling inside me, and I wasn't sure why.
We sat at the table for half an hour, or so, making small talk and catching up, until she decided it was time for her to get on with making dinner. "They'll be back from York soon," she said, glancing at the clock and sounding panicky. "Can't believe how long I've sat here. Why don't you go and unpack, love?"
I nodded and carried my bag upstairs. As soon as I reached my room, though, I stopped and stood quite still, staring at the dressing table in amazement. There was a sketch on there—a pencil drawing of me. And it was incredible. I dropped my bag and sank onto the bed, holding the sheet of paper in my hands. I'd never seen anything like it. No photograph had ever made me look like that. It was—extraordinary. There was an expression on my face I couldn't even begin to describe. All I knew was, the artist had made me look beautiful. And the artist was Ethan.
My mouth felt dry. There seemed to be a huge brick sitting in my chest, squeezing my heart, blocking my throat. A half sob escaped my lips, and the image before me blurred.
I blinked furiously and walked over to the window, my eyes drawn to the lawn and the grounds beyond, and somehow, I knew, I just knew, where he was. All thoughts of being cautious vanished, and I jumped up and ran downstairs, throwing open the front door and running towards the place I had pictured in my mind's eye for the last couple of days.
Reaching the secret garden, I opened the door and hurried down the path, through the archway and into the garden beyond. He was sitting on the swing, not moving, just staring down at the ground. As I caught sight of him, I stopped dead and tried to catch my breath. I had to be sensible. I had to think straight. This was crazy.
"Cara!" He pushed to his feet, staring at me as if he couldn't quite believe I was actually there. "You're home."
Hands clenched into fists at my sides, I stood fighting a desperate battle within myself. It was me, or him. I knew it. I couldn't have both. If I chose him, I would lose myself again, and he would grow tired of me, and I would be alone once more. This time, it would be so much worse than it had been with Seth, because how could I bear to live without Ethan once I'd truly been part of his life? It was impossible. I felt sick, and almost collapsed as the blood seemed to drain from my body.
