No Turning Back

by Susan Lewis

  So, pulling over to the side of the road, she opened up her phone and clicked through to Patty’s number.

  ‘What do you mean am I all right?’ Patty cried with an irritable laugh. ‘Of course I am. What makes you think I might not be?’

  Finding herself able to breathe again, Eva said, ‘I just got it into my head … No, it doesn’t matter. I thought, when you were uptight with Don … Is something stressing you? Something you’re not telling me about?’

  ‘You mean apart from this break-in, trying to be in five places at once, fire an abusive entertainment manager, persuade my darling daughter that no, I am not getting back together with her father …’

  ‘So she asked you about that?’

  ‘Yes, she did, again last night, and I told her that she’s right, I have been talking to Reece more often than I’d like lately, because, bigoted prick that he is, he’s trying to get me to talk Jake into seeking counselling for his – I quote – unnatural ways. Can you believe that man? I might understand it better if he was from Malawi or the bloody Vatican, but … oh, hang on, looks like the police have just turned up. I’ll have to get back to you.’

  After clicking off, Eva tossed her phone on to the passenger seat and closed her eyes with relief. Nothing was wrong with Patty, or nothing she couldn’t handle, and as long as that was the case, there was nothing wrong with the world. Or nothing that she was willing to discuss with any member of her family when she knew how much it would worry them. Only Bobbie knew about her new attempt to get information about her son, and Shelley of course, and since Bobbie was holidaying in Hawaii, and Shelley had promised to call as soon as there was some news, she must do her best now to put it out of her mind.

  Chapter Four

  Eva loved everything about the quaint little market town of Bridport, from its proud red-brick town hall with jaunty clock tower and bandstand belfry, to the elegant colonnaded home of the arts centre with its creamy facade and big red doors, to the whole wonderful mishmash of old-fashioned cottages, colourful shopfronts and surrounding green hills. Vibrant strings of bunting zigzagged in merry triangles across the high street, while abundant towers of flowering tubs spilled like waterfalls into each other, and large black sandwich boards boasted a host of mouth-watering delights from nearby delis. Each Wednesday and Saturday the place turned into a bustling open-air market selling everything from T-shirts to tea towels, beach toys to garden tools, cabbages, caulis, artichokes, apples, pears, eggs, and every imaginable style of hand-crafted jewellery, second-hand furniture and gloriously gaudy amateur art.

  Most of all though, Eva loved the friendliness of the place, especially around Bucky Doo Square where old people often whiled away their time on benches under the huge, leafy trees, while local farmers hawked their produce from white-tented stalls, and buskers enlivened proceedings with anything from bluegrass banjo, to classical clarinet, to good old-fashioned rock and roll. This morning a juggler was entertaining anyone who cared to stop and watch, while in the middle of the square a red-coated military band was setting out chairs ready for an audience that was, as yet, very thin on the ground.

  Perdita’s, Eva’s exclusive design shop, was in one of the narrow lanes leading off the square, nestled in between the cobwebby den of a bric-a-brac gallery and a smart new health-food store, with a card shop opposite, and a rambling old antiques emporium at the far end. Since the money she’d earned while modelling had enabled her to buy both her home and the entire three storeys of this building, she’d turned the first floor into a workroom where she and Livvy did most of their designing, and the second floor was a spacious studio apartment currently occupied by Livvy and her boyfriend Dave. To say Perdita’s meant everything to Eva would be going too far, but it certainly came a close second to her family. She was immensely proud of what she’d achieved with the shop, having turned it into an outlet for her own creations and those of other local artisans and designers. Each handbag, belt, piece of jewellery and item of clothing that occupied the inner room of the shop had been individually made and was displayed as an example of what a client could order in any colour, size or even alternative shape that she – or he – might choose. And should they wish to add a little personal flourish, Eva would work on it with them until they arrived at exactly the style that suited them best. There was also an eclectic collection of fashions that she bought in from Italy and Germany. This took up the first third of the shop, making the space easily accessible for passing browsers and providing something a little different for those on a less generous budget than that required for the exclusive designs.

  Eva was just turning into Perdita’s lane, as she called it, when she spotted her nephew, Jake, ambling towards her from the opposite end. Her heart instantly melted, the way it always did when she saw him. Not that she favoured him over Livvy, far from it, she adored them both, but there was no getting away from the fact that Jake, mainly because he was a boy, had the power to evoke emotions in her that were sometimes hard to bear.

  On reaching the shop she waited for him to join her, loving the way he moved with an athlete’s confidence and a dancer’s grace. And with his tousled mop of inky-black hair, lazy cobalt-blue eyes and perfectly chiselled features, he was as handsome as any of the men she’d ever modelled with.

  ‘Hey,’ he said cheerily as he kissed her on both cheeks, ‘fancy seeing you here.’

  ‘Funny, I was just thinking the same about you,’ she quipped, pushing open the door for him to go in ahead of her. ‘Don’t tell me, you’ve come to start a new line in menswear. The job’s yours, terms and conditions the same as Livvy’s.’

  Grinning, he said, ‘Count me in, just don’t ask me to sew.’ Then, ‘Wow, it smells good in here.’

  ‘Mm,’ Eva agreed, inhaling the pleasingly delicate aroma of something that seemed to combine jasmine, rose and a hint of musk.

  Coming through from the back, and brandishing the Dyson, Livvy said, ‘It’s a new room fragrance brought in by … Actually, I forget her name, but I’ve got it written down. She dropped by about ten minutes ago with some samples and I said we’d give them a go.’

  ‘Great idea,’ Eva replied approvingly. ‘Having a place that smells good is the first step towards making people want to be here. This one’s heavenly, though I’m hoping by the time I go through to the back I’ll be assailed by something of the fair-trade variety, preferably dark roast, but mild will do.’

  ‘Don’t worry, coffee’s on,’ Livvy assured her, her eyes following her brother as he sank into one of the cream leather sofas beside the counter, where clients were invited to browse the design portfolios while sipping coffee or white wine. ‘Huh! Will you just look at him,’ she snorted in disgust. ‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded. ‘And take your feet off the table.’

  ‘That’s nice,’ he retorted, keeping his feet where they were and putting his hands behind his head. ‘I thought you’d be pleased to see me.’

  ‘Delusional. I thought you were going with Mum this morning.’

  ‘I was, but then she said she could manage without me, so I thought I’d come and see if I could be of any use here. I’m free until eleven, which is when I start my shift at Waitrose. I don’t mind telling you, Eva,’ he called after her as she disappeared into her office, ‘it’s absolutely doing my head in stacking those shelves, so I’m hoping Bobbie’s going to be in touch with you today.’

  ‘Apparently she was due back from holiday this weekend,’ Eva told him, ‘so if she hasn’t rung by the end of the day I’ll try her again.’

  ‘She’s seen my portfolio, right?’ he asked.

  Eva hid a smile as she came back into the shop, since his portfolio, as he liked to call it, consisted of no more than half a dozen amateurish shots of him, taken by a budding young photographer mate, and styled – rather well, it had to be said – by Livvy. ‘As far as I know,’ she told him, ‘but if she hasn’t I know she’ll make a point of digging it out, because she said herself, the last time she saw you
, that you could have a great future in modelling, if it was what you wanted.’

  ‘Not a chance,’ he replied, stifling a yawn. ‘No offence, and all that, it’s just that I’m dead set on the law, but I need to earn some cash to pay for my South America trip, and if I rely on what I’m getting at Waitrose I won’t be going this January, that’s for sure. Can I have one of those?’ he enquired, pointing to a dish of individually wrapped truffles on the coffee table.

  ‘Help yourself,’ she said, going to pick up the mail that was stacked next to the till.

  ‘Mainly bills,’ Livvy told her. ‘And I’ve been trying to draft an ad to put in the window.’

  ‘What for?’ Jake asked.

  ‘Zoe’s leaving,’ Livvy explained, ‘and finding someone to replace her who’s bright, willing and knows the meaning of customer service isn’t going to be easy, as we know, thanks to the two nightmares we had before her.’

  ‘Is that it now?’ Eva asked Livvy. ‘She can’t even do this coming Saturday?’

  ‘Maybe her mother can be persuaded if it’s only one more week,’ Livvy replied. ‘At least that’ll buy us some time.’ As she finished speaking she was casting another rather dubious look at her brother. ‘Of course, there’s always you,’ she muttered in a tone that seemed to doubt her own sanity.

  His eyes widened with shock. ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence,’ he drawled, ‘but I’m definitely not aiming to be a camp little sweetie poncing about in ladies’ frocks for the edification of Dorset’s crème de la crème. I have a reputation to think of, you know.’

  Laughing, Eva said, ‘We’re not asking you to model them, just to help with the sales, but one day a week isn’t going to be enough for you, is it? It’d never satisfy your cash requirements, even if you topped it up from Waitrose. Besides, we’re staying optimistic about Bobbie, but remember, if she does come up with something it’s obviously going to be modelling.’

  ‘Yeah, but that’s kind of a different league – and it’ll be men’s stuff, not girls’.’

  Eva grinned mischievously.

  ‘You are so winding me up,’ he protested, tossing a cushion at her.

  ‘I thought gays liked wearing women’s gear,’ Livvy commented, starting to flick the clothes rails with a feather duster.

  Jake gave her a pitying look. ‘You are so not funny,’ he informed her.

  Livvy’s smile was winning. ‘Why don’t you finish vacuuming while I set up the till?’ she suggested. Then, as the phone started to ring, ‘Do you want me to get that, Eva, or will you?’

  ‘It’s OK, I will,’ Eva replied, still leafing through the mail as she walked into her office. ‘Hello, Perdita’s. Eva speaking,’ she said as she sank down in her chair.

  ‘Hey, it’s me,’ Don announced. ‘I just put in a call … Oh hell, what’s going on …? Sorry, hon. I’ll ring back in a few minutes.’

  Used to his abrupt ring-offs, Eva put the phone down and after sorting the mail into various action piles, she turned on the computer to check the diary. A second fitting for a mother-of-the-bride dress at ten thirty; a visit to Charmouth to discuss projected workload with one of their best seam-stresses (a meeting she wasn’t looking forward to, since orders were definitely on the decline, and Eva already knew how upset the poor woman was going to be when she admitted she didn’t actually have anything for her). After that she was due to drive up to Evershot to sort out menus for the fashion lunch she was hosting at the Summer House Country Lodge at the end of next month. A note next to this entry reminded her to get in touch with the local charities – one animal, one cancer – to which she was donating the show’s proceeds.

  So, a busy day ahead that couldn’t be allowed to run into tomorrow, since she was off to London first thing to meet up with the agent of one of her Italian designers who wanted to discuss a new, ‘price-friendly’ range they were about to put in production. She hadn’t yet made up her mind whether to stay the night. If there was a chance of seeing Shelley she wouldn’t even hesitate, but maybe it would be a good opportunity to catch up with Bobbie – if Bobbie had the time, which she almost never did.

  Deciding to give her a quick call if only to be sure she was back, she quickly dialled the number and went straight through to Naomi, Bobbie’s long-time PA.

  ‘Yeah, she’s here,’ Naomi informed her, ‘and I know she wants to talk to you so I’ll go and put a note in front of her. She’s on the line to some twit from a Spanish ad agency at the moment, and you know what her Spanish is like.’

  Laughing, Eva said, ‘Is she gorgeously tanned and relaxed after three weeks in Hawaii?’

  Naomi gave one of her famous scoffs. ‘That woman doesn’t do relaxed and with half of just about everyone she knows staying at the same hotel, they were nursing hangovers from dawn to dusk so couldn’t bear even a peep of the sun. She seems on good form though, considering, and you won’t be surprised to hear that this place already looks like El Niño passed through in a particularly nasty mood, and she only turned up half an hour ago. Are we going to see you soon? It seems ages since you were last in London.’

  ‘That’s kind of why I’m calling,’ Eva told her. ‘Is Bobbie around all week?’

  ‘Yep, till Friday when she’s off to Sicily for six days. Actually, I think that’s what she wants to talk to you about, but I’ll let her tell you, because, contrary to what she thinks, I haven’t managed to hardwire into her chaotic circus of a weirdy head yet. Anyway, can she get you on your mobile, or at the shop?’

  ‘Either,’ Eva replied, looking up as Jake wandered in carrying a tall, perfectly formed caffè latte in one hand and a feather duster in the other.

  ‘For my favourite aunt,’ he told her, setting the coffee down on the desk as she hung up the phone. ‘OK, you’re my only aunt, but I swear you’d still be my favourite if I had ten thousand of them.’

  Her eyes were dancing as she picked up the mug. ‘I’ve just put in a call to Bobbie,’ she said. ‘I’m pretty sure she’ll ring back before the end of the day.’

  ‘Cool,’ he declared excitedly, and tossing the feather duster into a corner he collapsed into her visitor’s chair and treated her to one of his best smouldering looks. ‘Time for a chat?’ he asked, hooking a leg comfortably over one arm of the chair.

  ‘Not really,’ she replied, opening up her emails, ‘but don’t let that stop you. Oh God, look at this,’ she murmured, as a dozen or more names from the past started dropping into her inbox.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked, coming to look over her shoulder.

  ‘I guess you could call it fallout from Saturday’s article,’ she replied. After scanning them quickly she closed the screen down. ‘Doesn’t matter, I can deal with them later. You were saying?’

  Going back to his chair, he said, ‘OK, I’ve been thinking. Well, actually, it just occurred to me when Livvy said you’d lost your Saturday girl.’

  Eva’s eyebrows rose.

  ‘This is probably going to sound a bit off the wall,’ he warned, ‘well, right off the wall I expect, but I was wondering … Well, why don’t you offer the job to Jasmine?’

  Eva allowed her jaw to drop.

  ‘She’s the right age,’ he continued unabashedly, ‘she’s dead bright, when she’s not being a pain in the proverbial that is, and I reckon she’d love to do it.’

  Eva’s eyes went to Livvy as she came to stand in the doorway. ‘Did you just hear that?’ she asked her incredulously.

  Livvy nodded. ‘He’s on another planet, I know, but actually, having had a few minutes to think about it … Well, it might not be one of his worst ideas.’

  Eva looked at Jake again, not quite sure what to say.

  ‘I know you’re worried she’ll be rude to the customers,’ he said, ‘but if you think about it, it’s only you and Liv she’s vile to …’

  ‘And it’s only us who work here. You know, I still can’t quite believe you’re saying this. You’re not serious, are you?’

  ‘I swear I am,’ Jake i
nsisted. ‘She really isn’t all bad … OK, I know it looks that way sometimes, but I reckon once you get past all the crap you’ll find that all she really wants is to be accepted by you two. You especially.’

  Eva blinked. ‘The one she’s most horrible to?’

  He nodded. ‘OK, it’s wacky, but ask yourself this, if she really didn’t want anything to do with you, why does she bother to come?’

  ‘To see her father?’

  ‘Yeah, but she could ask him to meet her halfway, or take her off to London or somewhere for weekends, but she keeps turning up here, trying to make trouble, I grant you – or the other way of looking at it could be that she’s trying to get noticed.’

  Since his quirky analysis was chiming, more or less, with her own way of thinking, Eva found herself starting to smile. This was part of what she loved most about her niece and nephew, how willing they were to see good in someone even when that person had rarely shown them affection or interest. ‘Let me get this right,’ she said, looking from one to the other, ‘you think Jasmine, my stepdaughter Jasmine, secretly wants to be friends with me?’

  Livvy nodded. ‘In fact, probably more than just friends,’ she ventured, ‘because I reckon what’s really going on with her is that she’s looking for a mum.’

  Eva immediately stiffened, but her only outward movement was to pick up her coffee as she tried to think. Though the job offer was a good idea, on the face of it, at least she thought it was, could she really imagine Jasmine wanting to work in ‘a crummy little boutique in Bridport’?

  ‘I bet,’ Livvy said, ‘Mum would agree with what we’re saying, if we asked her.’

  Being in little doubt of it, since Patty had suggested something similar not too long ago, Eva found herself recalling the words. ‘I know you do your best to make her feel welcome and to try and be friends with her,’ Patty had said, ‘but if you ask me I think she senses that you don’t want her to get too close, and that’s why she’s always difficult with you, and resentful. She’s hurt. She feels rejected.’