Encounters and Enemies

by Diana Xarissa

  “I was meant to be meeting Patricia Anderson for tea, but she had a family emergency and had to go,” Fenella explained.

  “I do hope everything is okay,” Paul replied, looking concerned.

  Fenella wasn’t sure how to respond to that. No one had told her not to mention Melanie’s accident, but Inspector Hammersmith had done his best to keep his voice down when he’d told Patricia. Feeling as if she ought to keep quiet, Fenella shrugged. “I hope so as well.”

  “But does that mean you didn’t get any tea?” Paulette asked. She had been a few steps behind Paul, but she’d caught up in time to hear the conversation between Fenella and her brother.

  “I didn’t.”

  “You must join us,” Paulette said. “I’m sure my mother would love a chance to get to know Mona’s niece.”

  “I don’t want to crash your family party,” Fenella protested.

  “It isn’t anything like that,” Paulette assured her. “Mother and I try to have tea here every Sunday when she’s well enough, and today we’ve invited Paul to join us for a change, but it isn’t anything special.”

  “Except I’m just out of hospital,” Phillipa said. “It feels special to me after nothing but dry toast and broth for a week.”

  “You were only in overnight,” Paulette said.

  “Well, it felt like a week,” Phillipa replied.

  Paul chuckled. “I promise there won’t be any broth or dry toast at tea,” he said. “Please join us,” he added, giving Fenella a smile.

  “If you’re sure,” she replied, still hesitant.

  “Of course we’re sure,” Paulette said. “Do come along.” She hooked her arm around Fenella’s and led her back into the restaurant. Only moments later they were shown to the same table that Fenella had just left.

  When the waitress came over, she grinned. “I know you said you’d be back, but I wasn’t expecting you quite this soon.”

  “I ran into some friends at the door,” Fenella explained, feeling slightly foolish.

  “Sometimes it seems as if this is a terribly small island,” the woman said. “Is it afternoon tea for everyone?” she asked.

  The waitress walked away, making a note on her pad, after a chorus of “yeses.”

  14

  “My daughter is right,” Phillipa said as soon as the waitress was out of earshot. “I am happy to meet you, although I feel as if we’ve met before.”

  Fenella glanced at Paulette, trying to remember what Paulette had said about telling her mother that she’d dreamed the encounter at the charity auction.

  “Mother, you did meet Fenella at Tynwald Day,” Paulette said. “I hope your memory will return to normal now that you’re off all of those tablets.”

  “Tynwald Day?” Phillipa echoed. “I don’t really remember,” she said to Fenella apologetically.

  “There was a lot going on that day,” Fenella said, waving a hand.

  “I’ve been having such odd dreams, you see,” the woman added. “I actually dreamed that I found evidence that my husband cheated on me. It was horrible.”

  “I’m so glad it all turned out to be just a bad dream,” Fenella said. She looked over at Paul, trying to signal that he needed to join in the conversation.

  “Anne Marie Smathers and I used to have coffee together every Thursday,” Phillipa said. “I felt so sorry for her when she lost her husband that I insisted that we start meeting regularly. She was all alone, you know.”

  Fenella nodded and glanced over at Paulette, who shrugged.

  “Mother, maybe we should talk about something else,” Paul said. “Oh, look, here’s our tea.”

  The waitress passed out the teapots. “I’ll be back in a minute with everything else,” she said.

  “I had the children, you understand,” Phillipa said. “But poor Anne Marie hadn’t been blessed with children during her marriage. They were only married for a year or so, I believe, before Herbert’s tragic accident. I fell pregnant with Paulette within a few months of my wedding, but poor Anne Marie was left alone and childless.”

  “She didn’t mind,” Paul interjected.

  “Of course she minded,” Phillipa corrected him. “She should have remarried, of course, but there were so few men available. Everyone married much younger in those days. The men who chose to remain single weren’t very nice men.”

  “It was good of you to spend time with her,” Fenella said.

  “Yes, it was the least I could do. The poor woman was left with a great deal of money. She didn’t need to work, but she had nothing else to do with her days.”

  “I met her at the charity auction,” Fenella said. “I was very sad to hear about her death so soon after we’d met.”

  “I always warned her about that car of hers,” Phillipa replied. “She was obsessed with it. It was the one place she could feel close to Herbert, she told me. I warned her that she drove it too fast, especially now that it was getting older. So many things can go wrong with cars. I did warn her.”

  “Mother, what’s been happening on that program you watch on the telly?” Paul asked.

  “Nothing,” she replied with a wave of her hand. “Margaret and I were friends, too, although we never grew as close as Anne Marie and I were. Margaret was as busy with her children as I was with mine, of course, although she did still manage to attend a lot of the charity functions and other social occasions that my husband simply had to be a part of.”

  “Social connections are important for small business owners,” Paul said in a patient tone. “In those days more deals were made over drinks at some pub than in any meeting room.”

  “Yes, and most of the wives went along for those drinks,” Phillipa told Fenella. “I always felt that my place was at home with my children, though. It was unseemly for married mothers to be out drinking and dancing in the evenings.”

  “I only met Margaret briefly, but she seemed very nice, too,” Fenella told her.

  “She was nice. Both of her children moved across, which was difficult for her. I’m so fortunate that my children have chosen to stay here, well, aside from Paula, of course.”

  Fenella didn’t know how to reply to that, so she was grateful to see the waitress heading their way. “Look how lovely,” she exclaimed as the waitress placed tiered trays on their table.

  “I do love an afternoon tea,” Phillipa said happily.

  For several minutes everyone filled plates and then began to eat. Fenella was just starting to relax when Phillipa began again.

  “Margaret should have sold her house and moved into a retirement community,” she said. “I warned her about all of those stairs. She had problems with her knees and she shouldn’t have been going up and down the stairs all day. She didn’t listen, of course. She loved that little house.”

  “Mother, you won’t listen, either,” Paul said. “You know I think you should move, but you won’t listen to me.”

  “I’m taking care of Mum,” Paulette said sharply. “She’s happy at home, aren’t you?” she appealed to Phillipa.

  “Of course I am,” Phillipa replied. “Paulette takes good care of me.”

  “But if you moved into a retirement community, Paulette would be free to do other things,” Paul suggested.

  “I don’t have other things I want to do,” Paulette snapped. “I’ve been looking after Mum since I was old enough to do so. I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

  Paul looked as if he wanted to argue more, but instead he grabbed a finger sandwich and took a large bite.

  “Of course, dear, sweet Hannah shouldn’t have been on her own, either,” Phillipa said after a moment. “She could barely walk. It’s no wonder she slipped in the bath. Two of her children moved across, too. I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been for her.”

  “Well, I’m not going anywhere,” Paulette said, patting her mother’s arm.

  “No, dear, you aren’t, are you?” the other woman said, looking at her daughter as if she were seeing her for t
he first time. “Why didn’t you ever find a husband?”

  Paulette blushed. “Like you said, there aren’t very many men out there,” she muttered.

  “I always wanted grandchildren,” Phillipa told Fenella. “I always thought that I would have some one day, but now it doesn’t seem very likely. I suppose Paul could still find someone and settle down, but it would be a huge surprise if it happened. Still, perhaps it’s for the best, under the circumstances.”

  “What does that mean?” Paul asked.

  “Because of Paula,” Phillipa replied.

  Paul and Fenella exchanged glances. Fenella had no idea what the woman was talking about, but there was no way she was going to ask.

  After an awkward pause, Phillipa sighed. “But you don’t know about my Paula, do you? She was my baby. I was so happy when I fell pregnant again after I’d had Paul. My husband didn’t really want any more children, so I felt incredibly blessed when I found out.”

  “Mother, let’s not talk about this,” Paul said.

  “Oh, hush,” Phillipa told him. “I’ll talk about whatever I want to talk about. Fenella deserves to know the whole story.”

  “Yes, Mother,” Paul replied. He began refilling his plate with more sandwiches and cakes while Phillipa took a sip of tea.

  “I was delighted to have another girl,” she continued. “Paulette didn’t really like frilly pretty things, so I was looking forward to having a daughter who I could dress in pink and ruffles. Unfortunately, it quickly became apparent that there was something terribly wrong with Paula.”

  “I’m sorry,” Fenella said.

  Phillipa nodded. “Thank you. I suppose, if all of this had happened today, that I would have had all manner of tests during my pregnancy. Perhaps I would have been able to prepare for the shock. As it was, though, I had no reason to suppose that my baby was going to be anything other than completely healthy.”

  “I think Fenella’s heard quite enough,” Paulette interrupted.

  “And if it happened today,” Phillipa continued, ignoring her daughter, “they probably would run all manner of tests to try to work out what was wrong. Maybe they could even treat whatever was wrong with Paula, but I doubt it. I think she had some sort of genetic abnormality. Whatever was wrong, though, once I recovered from my shock, I fell madly in love with her. She was a beautiful baby. She rarely cried and she had a way of staring at you, watching everything that you did, all the time.”

  “I remember that,” Paul said. “Even when she was very little, she used to lie on the floor and watch every move I made.”

  “She never learned to walk or crawl,” Phillipa said. “She couldn’t even sit up by herself, although she loved to sit on my lap and watch the world go by. She couldn’t talk, but she used to communicate with noises. I could understand her, even if no one else could.”

  “She was very sweet, in her own way,” Paulette said. “But she was also a lot of work. As soon as I was able, I tried to help as much as I could.”

  Phillipa nodded. “Paulette was a great help. She used to take Paula for long walks along the promenade. We had a special pushchair made for her that could accommodate her as she grew. She never gained weight the way she should have, but she still got too large for me to carry around easily. The pushchair made everything a little bit easier.”

  “I was too young to be much help,” Paul said. “I was probably more of a nuisance than anything else,” he added ruefully.

  “You were fine,” Phillipa told him, patting his hand. “You were just a typical boy. You were full of energy and needed to be entertained. It was hard for me to keep you happy and look after Paula as well. You started spending more time with your father as soon as you were able to do so.”

  “Yeah, I remember going to his office after school and just running up and down the corridors. He never complained that I was too loud or in the way,” Paul said.

  “And I did,” Phillipa said sadly. “You couldn’t run and make noise at home because Paula needed her naps. She was still a baby in many ways, even when she was older. She took naps twice a day and if she didn’t get her sleep, she would be nearly impossible to deal with.”

  “It was fun, spending time with my father,” Paul said. “I never minded.”

  “I minded,” Phillipa told him “But I couldn’t seem to work out a better solution. Paulette was happy to help out, but you just wanted to play.”

  “Paulette was the perfect child, even then,” Paul said.

  Fenella thought she could detect a hint of mockery in his tone.

  “I was never perfect,” Paulette argued. “All I wanted was for Mum to be happy. I’ve been working on that for the last forty-odd years.”

  “When Paula was ten, she started to lose weight,” Phillipa said sadly. “The doctors couldn’t work out why, but her health began to fail. She’d go into hospital and rally and then come home and get worse again. That went on for about six months. One morning, when I got up to get her breakfast, she wouldn’t wake up.”

  The woman stopped talking and opened her handbag. While she was wiping away tears, the waitress exchanged empty trays for full ones, carefully averting her eyes from Phillipa’s distress. “Do you need anything else?” she asked in a soft voice.

  “We’re fine,” Paul said.

  The waitress nodded and walked away while Phillipa was taking a few deep breaths. Finally she looked up at Fenella. “It shouldn’t have been a shock. She’d been so poorly for so many months and the doctors had always told me she could go anytime, but it was still a shock. I, well, I lost my mind for a while. My husband sent me away to hospital until I was able to function again.”

  “I’m so very sorry,” Fenella said.

  “It was so long ago, but I can still feel the pain,” the woman told her. “It was that pain that brought me and Patricia Anderson together. She’d lost her son, you see. We understood one another.”

  “Yes, she told me that she’d lost her son,” Fenella said.

  “I was fortunate that I still had Paulette and Paul. They were the only things that pulled me out of my misery. Patricia didn’t have any other children, not yet. I was quite jealous, actually, when she fell pregnant with Melanie. My husband refused to even consider having any more children, and she always told me that her husband felt the same way. I wish I knew how she’d changed his mind.”

  “Mum, have another sandwich. You’ve barely eaten anything,” Paulette urged.

  “Almost as soon as she fell pregnant, she stopped coming to visit me,” Phillipa said, sounding hurt. “I never knew why, but it made me sad.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Paulette said.

  “I tried to hide so much from you both,” Phillipa replied. “I did my best to pretend to be happy as much as I could.”

  “I should have tried harder to understand how you really felt,” Paulette sighed.

  “You were a child,” Phillipa said. “You couldn’t possibly understand how I felt, losing your sister.”

  “Does anyone need more tea?” the waitress interrupted. She refilled everyone’s drinks, chatting about the food and the weather as she did so. Fenella was pleased that something had broken the tension at the table, but as soon as the waitress walked away, it came back.

  “Our father should have been there for you more,” Paulette said. “He was always working, even right after Paula’s death.”

  “Your father worked hard to give us a comfortable life,” Phillipa told her. “I never had to worry about money, and neither do you, even though you’ve never held down a paying job.”

  “I did try,” Paulette said tightly.

  “I know you did, dear,” Phillipa replied, patting the woman’s hand. “But you mustn’t resent the long hours that your father’s job required. He did it for us, you know.”

  “He went to a lot of parties and social occasions after hours,” Paulette replied, pulling her hand away.

  “That sort of thing goes hand in hand with having a small business on
a small island,” Paul said. “I go to one event or another at least three nights a week.”

  “But you don’t have a wife and children at home,” Paulette pointed out. “Our father should have been home more.”

  “Where is all of this coming from?” Phillipa asked. “You always loved your father so much.”

  “I’m sorry,” Paulette waved a hand. “Thinking that he was unfaithful was upsetting. It made me think a lot about my childhood and how few of my memories actually include my father. He wasn’t home very often. He could have been unfaithful and we would have never known.”

  “Let’s not start talking about that again,” Phillipa pleaded. “I was so angry at him and my friends, and then so relieved to find out that it was just a bad dream. I really don’t want to even think about it anymore.”

  “Tell us about your childhood,” Paul said to Fenella.

  “Oh, goodness, my childhood was very different, of course,” she replied. “I grew up in America. We moved there when I was two. I have four older brothers who never seemed quite sure what to do with their unexpected little sister. Sometimes they could be quite wonderful to me, and other times they were horrible, but that was a long time ago. We all get along now.” More or less, she added silently to herself.

  “I’d just assumed you were an only child, since you’re the only one who has moved into Mona’s flat. Did she leave her estate to all five of you, then?” Paul asked.

  “No, she left everything to me,” Fenella replied. “And I’ve no idea why, really, unless it was because I was the only girl.”

  “I could see Mona thinking that,” Phillipa said. “Men were playthings to her. I was always just a little bit jealous of her life. She seemed incredibly happy all the time.”

  “She did,” Paul agreed. “ She lived on her own terms and she was unapologetic about it. Some people didn’t like it, but she simply didn’t care.”

  “I didn’t approve of her morals,” Paulette said. “I understand she had affairs with married men.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Paul countered. “She flirted with every man she met, but I think she was truly devoted to Max.”