by Susan Lewis
Well, she didn’t have to go anywhere to get them today. They were right here under her watch, and since the triumph of last night’s concert they’d all been in such frivolous, festive moods that it had been difficult to sleep. Jasmine’s violin solo had received so much praise that she’d glowed brighter than Rudolph’s nose all the way home. And Claudia had surprised herself by actually giving Dan a quick embrace before they’d left.
“Oh, wow, Mum, you look amazing,” Jasmine declared, coming out of her room in a cream flared mini dress, thick black tights, and bright red lipstick. “I told you as soon as we saw it that it was made for you. And look at you, Nana the banana.”
Marcy winced. “Really not how I wanted to be described,” she protested.
“Then you shouldn’t wear yellow, but you give jumpsuits a good rep, I’m telling you that. I bet Henry’s wild about them.”
“He’s never said.”
“Wait till he has to get you out of one . . .”
“OK, time to go!” Claudia declared, picking up the bag of gifts they’d prepared for the Secret Santa at Andee’s.
“Before we leave,” Jasmine cried, holding up her hands, “I have an announcement to make.”
Intrigued, her mother and grandmother turned back.
“I’ve decided,” she told them, eyes bright with excitement, “that for the opening night of the spring concert I’m going to play Dad’s violin.”
As Claudia’s heart melted, she pulled her daughter into a loving embrace. “That’s wonderful, wonderful,” she murmured, holding her close. “Oh God, after last night . . . I thought, I hoped you might feel ready . . .”
“I think I am.” Jasmine smiled as Marcy joined the hug. “I’ll take it to Anton after Christmas so he can make sure it’s properly tuned and we can start using it during rehearsals.”
“It’s going to be very special.” Marcy’s voice shook a little, knowing already that many tears would be shed that night and a lot of them hers.
“This is the best Christmas present I’ve ever had,” Claudia said softly, cupping Jasmine’s face in her hands.
“You’ve made us very happy,” Marcy added. “We’re both so proud of you. I know I’ve already told you this, but the way you played last night will stay with me forever. Everyone was so moved, and opening the spring concert on your dad’s special gift to you . . . That’s going to be even more memorable.”
Laughing, Jasmine said, “I hope you’ll be one of those out there dancing, because it’s not going to be a wholly classical performance. Plenty of pop and jazz.”
“You can count on it,” Marcy assured her.
“And now we really should go,” Claudia told them. “Are you sure you’re happy to drive?” she asked Jasmine.
“Totally,” Jasmine insisted, and held up the key to the bright blue Mini with a painted daisy on top that her mother and grandmother had bought for her two weeks ago when she’d passed her driving test. An early Christmas present, they’d told her. She went everywhere in it now, and it had already been decided that she would leave them to get a taxi home later while she went to spend the evening with Abby at Ash Morley.
By the time they arrived at Andee and Graeme’s, Andee’s mother Maureen was already there and welcomed them at the door. She and Marcy were like old friends these days, given all the time they spent together at the community center, but this morning at the shelter was the first time Claudia and Jasmine had met her. She was as gracious and good-natured as her daughter, and eager to break out the champagne, they discovered, as they entered the kitchen. The smell of roasting turkey, potatoes, and stuffing was so delicious that they could almost feast on the air.
Graeme immediately popped a cork, and as the glasses were filled and everyone joined in a toast Claudia didn’t like to ask where Dan was; no doubt he’d turn up any minute. However, as the smoked salmon canapés and Brie and cranberry twists were passed around, and crackers were pulled for silly gifts and paper hats, he still didn’t show.
Maybe he was going somewhere else for lunch and coming later. Or he could be unwell and had called to say he couldn’t make it.
“Oh my, look at this,” she heard her mother gasp, and turning she saw that Graeme had opened the set of double doors into the dining room, where the table was laid for a banquet and a giant Christmas tree glittered silver and gold in front of a tall sash window. The candles, ornaments, and place settings were silver and gold too, and seeing there were seven people expected to sit down, Claudia found herself relaxing without having realized she was tense. Right now they were only six, so it seemed Dan was coming, and she really had to stop fixating on it, because even if he did, what was she going to do? Tell him she’d changed her mind and would like to meet him for a coffee or lunch? She wouldn’t do it, she knew that already, so why was she giving herself such a hard time over where he was?
As everyone took a seat, sitting where they liked, Graeme seemed aware of her thoughts, as he said, “By the way, Dan is definitely joining us, but he’s been held up so he’s insisting we carry on until he gets here.”
“What’s happened?” Maureen asked, pulling up next to Marcy. “Is he all right?”
“He’s fine. He had a call from his in-laws after the concert last night, apparently one of them had had a fall, so he drove to Dorchester to check that they’re OK.”
“And are they?” Marcy asked.
“I believe so. Their son and daughter-in-law have arrived from Manchester now, so when Dan rang earlier he was just setting off to come back to Kesterly. My guess is he’ll arrive in about half an hour.”
Leaning in to her mother, Jasmine murmured, “You thought he wasn’t coming, didn’t you?”
Claudia kept her head turned away as though she hadn’t heard, while under the table she gave Jasmine a pinch.
He turned up just as the sizzling, bacon-strapped turkey was being carved, and as he was ushered into place at the table opposite Claudia—and given wine, a cracker, and a napkin—she was aware of how pleased everyone was to see him. He, too, was evidently thrilled to see them. The party seemed complete now, slightly more balanced even, given that Graeme was no longer the only man.
Much of the talk over the meal was of Christmases past, hilarious anecdotes of disasters and surprises, long-forgotten memories retrieved and retold with shameless exaggeration. Marcy joined in unabashedly, describing incidents from both Jasmine’s and Claudia’s childhoods as though Christmas with them had always been a joyous and close-family affair. Claudia said little, but found herself laughing along with everyone else, and loved the way that Jasmine did too. Today, with such good friends as these, was no time to remember the terrible recent years with Marcus.
When the table was finally cleared, they moved over to the drawing room, where Graeme had already rekindled the fire and lit up another Christmas tree. After relaxing in front of the Queen’s speech and some dozing during It’s a Wonderful Life, coffee and liqueurs were served, along with a flaming Christmas pudding and brandy-flavored cream.
It was almost six by the time Jasmine left to drive to Ash Morley, far more flushed by the boisterous rounds of Taboo they’d played than by alcohol, as she’d had none since the glass of champagne on arrival.
As the door closed behind her daughter Claudia felt a strange mix of pride and loss, as if this was the best and worst part of the day. It was wonderful to see her claiming her independence, as she would more and more now that she had a car, but Claudia was already missing her little girl. She wondered fleetingly where they all might be this time next year, and experienced a wave of emotion as she realized that a year ago she’d never have imagined herself to be somewhere like this today. It would have been beyond her wildest dreams.
Feeling Dan’s eyes on her, she smiled as she looked at him, and gave a laugh at the comical way he arched his eyebrows.
“So, Claudia,” Maureen said from the comfort of a cream leather fireside chair, “can I ask how the renovations are going at the coach
house? I’ve been hearing great things about it. Is it true it’ll soon be ready for you to move into?”
Thrilled to be asked, Claudia said, “We’re hoping it’ll be sometime in the next couple of months. The builders are doing an amazing job of bringing the place back to life.”
“The builders are?” Andee cried in protest. “You mean you are. You should see some of the things she’s done! All the original features have been restored or replaced, cornices, fireplaces, windows and doors, even the kitchen has a centuries-old feel about it in spite of it being brand-new—and I can’t wait to see it when the refectory table is in. The whole place is already feeling so much like a home that I could hardly tear myself away when I went in the day before yesterday. Don’t you love it?” She turned to Marcy.
“Completely,” Marcy assured her. “To borrow one of Jasmine’s words, it’s awesomazing. I don’t suppose anyone but my daughter would have thought to have purple walls with blue and yellow globe lamps hanging from stainless-steel rods over the kitchen table, but amazingly, I can see it working.”
“Andee would have thought of it,” Claudia put in with a laugh, “because it was her idea.”
“We came up with it together,” Andee insisted, “but the saffron drapes are all yours and they’re a stroke of genius, in the way they’re going to be there, but not there, so they take nothing away from the windows. Frankly, it’s going to give a whole new meaning to Georgian chic. We’re still searching for art, but Claudia has some wonderful ideas for the spaces she wants to fill.”
Claudia grimaced. “It’ll be a matter of finding the right shapes and sizes, colors, styles . . . Some art nouveau, others more classical. It’s going to be a big job, that’s for sure.”
“I might know someone who can help with that,” Dan informed her. “An artist who’s making a name for herself by creating bespoke works for clients.”
“You’re talking about Julie Forrest,” Andee came in excitedly. “Why on earth didn’t I think of her? She lives out in Mulgrove village? Yes, you guys should definitely meet,” she told Claudia. “She has the kind of vision that sets your head spinning, but in a good way. I didn’t realize you knew her, Dan.”
“We only met a couple of months ago,” he said. “She needed some help with a studio she’s buying, so the firm’s acting for her.” To Claudia, he said, “You’ll meet her at the ball on New Year’s Eve, if you’re going to be there. I’ll be happy to introduce you.”
Claudia’s smile didn’t falter in spite of the way her heart did. “That would be lovely. I’ll look forward to it,” she said, feeling the heat of her mother’s eyes on her.
They were both thinking the same thing, that it sounded as though Dan already had a partner for New Year’s Eve.
Chapter Eighteen
The days between Christmas and New Year passed quickly for Claudia. Although she joined a long hike over the moor on Boxing Day with Leanne and her family, she was so engrossed in the needs of the coach house now that she spent most of her time there. She sanded, stained, painted, plastered, polished, and always visualized: the Decorum sideboard could go here, the vintage chaise longue there, the sitting room would be a perfect home for the coffee table she’d created out of a door, the refectory table was going to need at least ten chairs.
Each time she let herself into the place she was filled with happiness, for the main front door opened straight into the heart of the house. Everything was open plan, with the kitchen and its arched windows to the left, the sitting room and its matching spectacular windows to the right, and doors leading from each end to the east and west wings. Her craft room, bedroom, and bathroom were on the far side of the kitchen, her mother’s study and en suite bedroom was off the sitting room, and Jasmine’s domain was in the tower.
The densely brambled chaos that stretched between the house and the moor was going to become her mother’s project, and Marcy was already talking to a landscaper about which trees, shrubs, and beds could be saved and restored.
What Claudia loved most of all about being there, however, was how welcome and safe the house made her feel. It wasn’t only the solidity of the centuries-old walls, or the shelter of the roof, it was the quiet and soulful character of the place, the intangible yet present sense of it taking care of her, the way she was taking care of it.
It already felt like an old and trusted friend, she told Marcy. “Do you feel it too?” she’d asked that morning when they’d brought more paint samples and cleaning equipment. At the time they’d been standing side by side just inside the front door gazing into the half-finished sitting room and partly installed kitchen and out through the set of double French windows at the rear to a dilapidated terrace and wilderness beyond.
“Yes, I do,” Marcy replied earnestly. “I never imagined I’d feel like this about anywhere again, but it’s very special, and what you’re doing with it seems to honor it in ways I’d never have dreamt of myself.”
Loving the answer, Claudia rested her head on her mother’s shoulder.
“We’ve met some wonderful people here,” Marcy commented softly, “and now you’re creating this beautiful home. I can see us doing quite a bit of entertaining, can’t you?”
Yes, Claudia could, in fact she was already planning a housewarming and a special dinner to say thank you to Andee for all she’d done to make this happen. She wouldn’t admit it to Andee, but more than anything else this house, and her growing business, had helped her to stop obsessing about Marcus, imagining him in his prison cell, furious, vengeful, plotting how to find her. It was always there, lurking beneath the reality of her new existence, his voice finding her in moments of insecurity, his threats combining with the dread of his sister, or someone else, suddenly turning up on her doorstep. However, she was finding it easier to move past the fear now, to clear her thoughts of the darkness that emanated from all memories of him.
Noticing the time, she said, “You should go, Mum, or you won’t be there when Henry comes to pick you up.”
Glancing at her watch Marcy agreed, “You’re right, but don’t stay long, will you? You’ll need to get ready for the ball.”
“Don’t worry about me.” Claudia hugged her. “You have a great time, and happy New Year.”
“To you too,” Marcy said warmly. “Love you and see you tomorrow.”
IT HAD LONG been dark outside by the time Claudia finally locked up the coach house and returned to her car. It shouldn’t take much more than twenty minutes to drive back into town, but she was in no hurry, for she’d decided several days ago that she wouldn’t be going to the ball. She hadn’t told anyone; if she had it might have stopped her mother going to London, or Jasmine celebrating with her friends at a party in the Old Town. Plus, Andee and Leanne would probably have done their best to persuade her to change her mind, and Dan . . . Well, it was unlikely to make a difference to him whether or not she was there. He could always introduce her to Julie Forrest another time; it didn’t have to be tonight.
Checking the time as she drove away, she imagined her mother arriving at the theater with Henry around about now, looking glamorous and excited in a sequined black dress and mock-fur cape. It pleased her so much to think of Marcy and Jasmine being happy that she didn’t really mind about herself; after all, in her way she was happy too. Moreover, the sudden bouts of anxiety she’d suffered when they’d first gotten here only ever seemed to happen now when she left her car outside the flat and ran up the steps to go inside. She couldn’t prevent herself from thinking someone was going to appear from the shadows to stop her, and she never felt totally safe until the front door was closed and locked behind her.
This evening her mind was so full of what still needed to be done at the coach house that she made it into the villa and was kicking off her boots behind the locked door of the flat before it occurred to her to feel worried. Clocking it up as another small milestone achieved, she went through to the living area, where the chaos of a teenager getting ready to go out was strewn li
ke a still life across the table. She regarded it thoughtfully, although her mind wasn’t on it. She was thinking more about how quiet the place seemed and what she might have worn if she had gone out.
Since it was hardly relevant now, she put on some music and poured herself a drink before starting to tidy up. Later she’d make herself something to eat, take a shower, and since it would be pointless trying to sleep any time before midnight, she’d go to sit in the window to watch the revelries on the Promenade. She might even open a bottle of champagne. It would be good to toast in the New Year with so much to look forward to, even if she was on her own.
What she didn’t plan to do, but had known in the back of her mind that she might, was go through to her mother’s room to find out if Marcy really had shredded the mail that DC Leo Johnson had brought. She’d said she had, but would she actually have destroyed the prison letter before finding out what it contained? Yes, Claudia had noticed it in the pile, and though she’d pushed it out of her mind since, she felt compelled to know if her mother had kept it.
She found it, opened, in Marcy’s shoe cupboard, and as she stared down at the familiar and detested writing she felt bile rising in her throat. She was certain it contained something terrible, couldn’t imagine anything else coming from him.
My darling wife,
I am heartbroken by your desertion. Your failure to write to me, or come and see me is making the time here almost impossible to bear. Some days I feel I simply cannot go on, for without you in my life there seems no point to it.
Please, wherever you are, reconsider your decision to leave me. I know I have not always been a perfect husband, but I love you, my angel, and I have always done my best to give you everything you ever wanted.
Eugena tells me that you have taken some keepsakes from the house, and I felt so happy when I thought you wanted to hold on to something of mine to remind you of me. But then you didn’t get in touch, and we don’t know where you are, so please contact Eugena, or write to me, my darling, to let me know that you are safe.
