Out of the Shadows

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Out of the Shadows Page 10

by Susan Lewis


  ‘It’s certainly good to see her lovely hair with a bit of a shine on it again, and those dark shadows gone from her eyes, even if they are only being covered up by make-up.’

  Having no more time to eavesdrop, Susannah picked up her coat and bag and after kissing them goodbye, and instructing them not to stay up all night partying because she knew what they were like, she went off to meet Cathy for her lift into work.

  How wonderful it would be, she was reflecting as she all but floated across the estate in the rain, if tonight could turn into her last at the club. She knew thinking this way made her as guilty as Pats, Lola and Neve of setting her hopes too high and allowing her imagination to run away with her, but it was so long since she’d dared to feel optimistic about anything that she wasn’t going to dash herself down yet. Why should she, when life was perfectly capable of crushing her dreams all by itself? Besides, Alan’s emails had given her no reason to be fearful, or even in any way doubtful, so for tonight, at least, and tomorrow, why not let her hopes soar to the moon and the stars, maybe even to the same dizzying heights as Neve’s had apparently achieved?

  It was eight o’clock on Saturday evening and Susannah was so strung out that she managed to slap Neve’s hand far more sharply than she’d intended, as Neve tried to fuss with her collar.

  ‘That hurt!’ Neve complained.

  ‘I’m sorry, but you’re getting on my nerves,’ Susannah told her, turning to the full-length mirror for yet another inspection of how she looked. ‘This is fine,’ she declared firmly, in an attempt to convince herself. ‘Or do you think I should wear my hair up?’

  ‘No!’ Patsy and Neve chorused. ‘It looks gorgeous hanging loosely like that,’ Patsy assured her. ‘It’s how he’ll remember you.’

  Susannah continued checking her appearance, turning from side to side, assessing the caramel silk trouser suit she’d finally decided on with a pale cream camisole underneath. It was a huge treat to be wearing heels for a date as well, because Alan had always been taller than her, while Duncan was an inch shorter and hadn’t appreciated being towered over whenever she put on stilettos.

  ‘You definitely think this is better than the orange and black dress?’ she said.

  ‘It’s perfect,’ Patsy told her, ‘and anyway, you haven’t got time to change again. The taxi’ll be here any minute.’

  ‘What bag are you taking?’ Neve asked, going to rummage through the wardrobe shelves.

  ‘What about the little gold purse we found at the boot sale?’ Susannah suggested.

  ‘Oh yeah, brilliant. I’ll go and get it.’

  As Neve dashed off to her own room Susannah rolled her eyes. ‘I should have known it would find its way in there,’ she commented, turning back to the mirror and looking decidedly undecided again as she regarded her reflection. ‘You don’t think this is too formal?’

  ‘It’s lovely and shimmery and shows off your fabulous figure to perfection,’ Patsy said firmly. Then with a twinkle, ‘I wonder what sort of state he’s getting himself into now? Do you reckon he’ll be worrying about whether his undies match his shirt, or if his wallet’s big enough to impress you?’

  With a choke of laughter, Susannah took the gold beaded bag Neve brought in and checked inside. ‘What’s this?’ she said, pulling out a small photograph of Neve.

  Blushing and shrugging, Neve said, ‘I just thought you might want to show him, you know, if he asks about me, or anything.’

  Feeling her heart tighten with love, Susannah tucked the photo away again and hugged Neve to her. ‘I’m sure he will ask about you,’ she told her, realising again how much this was meaning for Neve. ‘And if he doesn’t I’ll tell him anyway.’

  Embarrassed, but happy, Neve said, ‘It’ll be a good topic to get on to if things start to turn a bit boring.’

  Susannah’s laugh was swallowed by a wave of nerves as a car pulled up outside, only to drive off again.

  ‘Do you have any condoms?’ Neve wanted to know.

  Susannah’s shock dissolved in an unsteady chuckle. ‘I’m not sleeping with him on the first night,’ she protested, as Patsy cherished the moment.

  ‘Yeah, but you should still take some, just in case,’ Neve told her. ‘We don’t want you ending up pregnant, do we?’ She looked at Pats. ‘Or maybe we do.’

  Patsy nodded, seeming to think it a fine idea.

  ‘Will you behave?’ Susannah chided. ‘We’re just having dinner, as old friends, and I might, might, invite him in for coffee when he brings me home. Now, which lipstick?’

  ‘This one,’ Neve said, fishing a slim tube of honey-coloured gloss from the selection Pats had brought with her.

  ‘She’s got a good eye,’ Patsy commented as Susannah applied it.

  Susannah might have responded had her voice not been swallowed into a gulf of trepidation as someone knocked on the door.

  ‘That’ll be the taxi,’ Patsy announced, and leaving Susannah to dab on some perfume and give a last flick and brush to her hair, she went off to answer it.

  ‘OK, Cinderella,’ she grinned a few minutes later, as Susannah came down the stairs wearing the fur and leather coat she’d given her, and managing to look both radiant and terrified, ‘your carriage awaits. It’s already paid for, so no need to worry about that, and you’ve got the number should you need picking up. But that is not going to happen, because he’s bound to bring you home.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Neve agreed. ‘Your mobile’s in your bag in case you feel the urge to nip to the loo and let us know how it’s going, and I’ve put some breath freshener in too. Not that you need it, but if you have something with garlic in you don’t want to asphyxiate him into the sack.’

  ‘She’s good,’ Patsy laughed.

  ‘Don’t encourage her,’ Susannah responded. Then, taking a deep breath, ‘OK, I’m going,’ she declared, as though about to leap out of a plane into free fall. ‘If it’s a disaster I’ll get the taxi to bring me straight to Lola’s to fill you in, otherwise I’ll come back here and see you in the morning.’

  After hugging her and wishing her luck, Pats told her to say hi from her, and stood at the front door with Neve watching Susannah sink into the back of a silver Mercedes. As it pulled away they both laughed at the way they teared up as they blew kisses and waved her off into the night.

  It was a little after eight thirty when Susannah walked into the candlelit restaurant on Northcote Road, where a sonorous tenor was adding his own special flavour to the Italian surroundings and piquant aroma of peperoncino and roasting garlic. The place was almost full already, and noisy, but in a convivial sort of way that made it seem as inviting as the maître d’ who materialised to take her coat.

  When she turned round again, her heart gave an unsteady beat and her cheeks flooded with heat as she spotted someone winding his way through the tables with his eyes fixed on hers. She felt suddenly breathless and shaky, and then such a surge of happiness that she started to laugh. This man might look older and more distinguished than the Alan she’d known, but the mop of fair hair and roguish twinkle in his warm brown eyes had hardly changed at all.

  ‘Susannah,’ he said, his tone weighted with affection and humour. ‘You’re even more beautiful than I remembered, and I felt sure that wouldn’t be possible.’

  ‘Then let’s hope they don’t turn up the lights,’ she said, only half jokingly. ‘You’re looking extremely good yourself.’

  His eyebrows rose comically, and taking her hand he kissed her gently on the cheek, before gesturing for her to go ahead of him to the table.

  ‘Will you have a glass of champagne?’ he offered, as the maître d’ seated them. ‘A Kir royale, maybe?’

  ‘That sounds wonderful, thank you.’ She put her purse on the table and realised she felt slightly intoxicated already.

  After giving the order, he turned back to her and his eyes were gently mocking as he said, ‘I’m tempted to pinch myself, just to make sure this isn’t a dream.’

  ‘I have to a
dmit, it’s feeling a bit strange to me too,’ she agreed. ‘It’s like I know you, but I don’t, or not who you are now. You seem so … so …’

  ‘Old?’ he suggested. ‘Grey? Grown-up?’

  Laughing, she said, ‘Actually yes, grown-up, but assured and … relaxed, I suppose.’

  ‘You wouldn’t have said that if you’d seen me an hour ago,’ he promised wryly.

  With a smile, she pulled herself back from the easy flirtation they were sinking into and said, ‘Before we go any further, there’s a confession I have to make. I hope you’re not going to be angry, but it wasn’t me who went on to the Friends Reunited website trying to find you, it was my daughter, Neve, meddling in my life as she usually does.’ She was gazing directly into his eyes. ‘In this instance, I’m glad she did,’ she told him shyly.

  He was frowning curiously. ‘Then I should probably say that I am too, but let me get this straight. She pretended to be you? Does that mean all of your emails were written by her?’

  Susannah pulled a face. ‘I’m afraid so – and Patsy, it has to be said.’

  Surprised, but clearly amused, he said, ‘I might have known Patsy Lovell would feature in there somewhere. So you two are still friends? You don’t know how good it feels to hear that. How is she these days? No, let that wait, carry on telling me about Neve. I know from the emails you’re supposed to have sent that she’s almost fourteen, not much younger than you were when we first met. Is she like you?’

  Susannah nodded as she dug into her bag. ‘Quite a bit,’ she said, passing the photograph over.

  His eyes softened as he gazed down at the picture. ‘This could almost be you,’ he told her. ‘She’s lovely.’

  Blushing with pride, Susannah took the photograph back and put it away again.

  ‘So can I take it you’re now familiar with what you’re supposed to have said in the emails?’ he asked, his eyes full of humour.

  With a laugh she said, ‘I am, but believe me, I’d never have told you half as much as they decided to, especially when it came to Duncan being sent to prison and how hard I’ve been finding it since. I wanted to brain them when I read all that.’

  His eyes were still laughing, but his tone was serious as he said, ‘I was really sorry to hear that things haven’t been going so well for you. Actually, I was surprised too, because the last I heard you were getting quite a bit of acting work, but I guess you’ve given that up now.’

  ‘More like it’s given me up, but even if something came my way I’d have to turn it down, because the hours would be bound to clash with Neve’s schooling. As it is, Lola has to help out quite a bit, particularly when I’m working at night. Neve generally stays with her then, which suits them both quite well, because Lola loves the company, and Neve can get away with all sorts of things with Lola that she never would at home.’

  ‘And Fred?’ he asked.

  Susannah swallowed. ‘He died two years ago.’

  He looked genuinely sorry. ‘I was afraid you might say that. He was a great old guy. I used to enjoy my chats with him when I came calling for you. How did Lola take his passing?’

  ‘Harder than you’d ever get her to admit. You might remember how she was never comfortable discussing her feelings. “They’re there,” she always says, “they don’t have to be shouted about to make them any bigger.”’

  Smiling, he said, ‘I can almost hear her. She had a way with her though, didn’t she? She was always really good at making us kids feel a bit pleased with ourselves. I used to think I was the bee’s knees after I’d had a chat with her.’

  ‘I’m glad you remember her so fondly, because that’s certainly how she remembers you. In fact, she and Neve have hardly talked about anything else these past few days. You’re quite their hero.’

  He gave a shout of laughter, but she could tell he was pleased. ‘What are they doing tonight?’ he asked.

  ‘Pats is taking them to the private screening of a movie yet to be released, because our Pats is very well connected these days.’

  ‘Really?’ He sat back as the waiter brought their champagne.

  After setting the glasses on the table the waiter recited a list of the evening’s specials, then stood aside as a colleague offered an assortment of breads, and yet another laid down the menus and wine list.

  When finally they were alone again Alan picked up his glass, and looking into her eyes he said, ‘So what shall we drink to?’

  Feeling a leap in her pulse, she put her head to one side as she gave it some thought. ‘I know, how about making up for lost time?’ she suggested, and then immediately blushed for how forward that might sound.

  Seeming to read her thoughts, he arched an eyebrow as he touched his glass to hers. ‘Sounds a great toast to me,’ he said. ‘So, here’s to making up for lost time.’

  As they drank she could feel her head spinning, as much with relief as with a rising sense of elation. This was turning out to be so easy and uncomplicated, and was even starting to feel right in a way nothing had in too long.

  ‘Can I ask,’ he said, when they put their glasses down, ‘why you chose this particular restaurant for tonight?’

  Remembering, she grimaced as she said, ‘Actually, it’s one of Neve’s favourites. We always come here, or Chutney Mary’s, when we have something to celebrate, so when you offered to let me choose where we should meet, I’m afraid she insisted it had to be this place. Do you mind? Does that spoil it?’

  ‘No, not at all. I was just wondering if you’d been here before, and if there were any particular memories attached. Clearly there are, if you come for special occasions.’

  ‘None of which include Duncan,’ she told him, in case that was what he was thinking. ‘We only found this place after he’d … gone his separate way.’

  His eyes darkened slightly. ‘It must have been a very difficult time for you when all that happened,’ he said. ‘The shock of the arrest, then the court hearing and the sentence.’

  Her eyes dropped to her glass as she picked it up and took a sip. As far as she was concerned Duncan’s presence wasn’t welcome at the table, but Alan had sounded so empathetic and non-judgemental that she was on the brink of admitting how she’d really felt at the time. However, it wasn’t a suitable subject for this evening, and finally becoming mindful of Neve’s warning before she’d left that she shouldn’t rattle on too much about herself, she injected some mischief into her smile as she said, ‘You’re obviously an expert at drawing people out, but I’m going to resist it for now, because I want to hear all about you.’

  Appearing surprised, he said, ‘I think I told you more or less everything in my emails.’

  ‘Maybe, but not in any great detail. I was sorry to hear about your parents, especially your father. It must have been very hard to make the decision to put him in a home.’

  ‘Yes and no. He’d reached a point where it was virtually impossible for my aunt to take care of him any longer, but he’s not far away. She sees him every week, and I go too, but not quite as often as that.’

  ‘Does he know you?’

  ‘Not really. He thinks I’m his brother who died about twenty years ago.’

  ‘Your uncle Jim. I remember him. We went to the funeral together.’

  ‘Of course. On the motorbike and my father was furious. He said it showed a lack of respect, roaring up to the church on two wheels wearing leathers.’

  Smiling at the memory, Susannah said, ‘You had a dreadful row with him later, as I recall, and you didn’t speak for ages after. Two whole days, I think it was.’

  His eyes were twinkling. ‘And you were appalled, because you’d never allow the sun to set on an argument. It was one of the things I used to love about you, but I think I took advantage of it too, because I knew you’d always apologise first.’

  ‘You were shameless the way you exploited my good nature,’ she informed him tartly. ‘It used to make me so mad the way you did that.’

  Grinning, he said, ‘I promise,
if we ever fall out again, I’ll be the first to say sorry. Now, before we start getting lost down memory lane, I think we should decide what we’re going to eat.’

  Since she knew the menu quite well Susannah didn’t take long to choose a rocket salad with Parmesan shavings and lobster risotto with truffle oil, while he finally opted for the antipasti followed by a traditional Neapolitan lasagne. Then he selected a fruity aglianico wine which neither of them had tried before.

  Once the waiter had taken the orders Susannah drank more champagne, then said, ‘OK, I’m not being sidetracked any more, I want to know all about your life in Manchester, most particularly about your wife and stepchildren.’

  His eyes went down as his fingers linked around the stem of his glass. ‘To be honest,’ he said, ‘I made light of it in the email, because the truth is, it’s still a little painful. Not the actual break-up of the marriage, but having to leave the children. I really miss them, but they’re not mine, so unfortunately I have no rights.’

  ‘Do you mean your wife won’t let you see them?’

  He took a deep breath before answering. ‘Helen is a wonderful woman whom I still love in many ways,’ he said, ‘but her approach to life can be very black and white. Now we’re no longer together she thinks it’s best for the children if they focus on building a relationship with her new partner and try to forget me.’

  Susannah’s eyes rounded with shock. ‘But that’s not only short-sighted, it’s cruel,’ she protested. ‘Children can’t just switch their emotions on and off like they were battery-operated, and you took care of them for over seven years. She can’t pretend that didn’t happen. How do the children feel about losing contact with you?’

  ‘Actually, they’re not terribly happy about it either, but their mother is their mother, so she gets to make the decisions. Obviously I’ve tried discussing it with her, but she’s adamant her way is the right one, which I wouldn’t argue with if the children supported her. However, I certainly don’t want to be the cause of a rift between them, so it’s best that I do things her way – at least for now.’

 

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