by Gemma Fox
Fiona’s jaw dropped. ‘How can you be so coarse about something so special?’ And then after a second or two, in a voice barely above a whisper: ‘How on earth did you know?’
Carol shook her head, suddenly feeling relieved and able to see clearly for the first time in days. ‘Because he did the same to me. What a total and utter bastard,’ she said to no one in particular and then she laughed and shook her head. ‘How come we didn’t see what he was like?’
‘You are such a bitch,’ snarled Fiona. ‘You don’t fool me, you’re making it up.’
‘You don’t re ally believe that,’ said Carol. ‘And you know what? I don’t care even if you do. I think that you and Gareth deserve each other. I hope you are very happy together.’
‘But I thought you said you wanted him,’ Fiona protested.
‘Once upon a time, but I don’t now—I was on my way to find him to tell him just that before we had this little chat. I was going to tell him that whatever I felt for him was in the past and that I love someone else now—and that it wasn’t until I saw Gareth again that I realised just how much. I’m in love with a re ally nice guy, Fiona, a man who is loving and honest and funny. He cares about me in a way that Gareth couldn’t comprehend. He’s a safe pair of hands, who will always be there for me, who will catch me if I fall, and you know what? He loves me back. I hadn’t re ally seen it clearly until last night and then I realised I would never be able to trust Gareth as far as I could throw him. He doesn’t care about either of us, Fiona—he only cares about himself. He didn’t care whether I wanted to go into the storeroom with him or not. He only cared about what he wanted—Gareth had a plan and he intended to see it through. And my feeling is that it isn’t the only plan he has.’
‘The storeroom?’ repeated Fiona.
Carol laughed. ‘Oh God, not you too? Yes, the storeroom.’
‘The bastard,’ Fiona hissed.
‘He made it then. Eventually,’ said Carol.
On the far side of the stage Fiona was now crimson with fury, and for one amazing moment Carol thought that Fiona was going to hurl herself across the room and attack her, but instead she paused, her attention momentarily moving to a spot somewhere above Carol’s shoulder.
‘Hi, there,’ said a familiar voice. ‘How’s it going?’
Carol turned very slowly. ‘Hello. Funnily enough, I was looking for you,’ she said.
‘Ah,’ said Gareth. ‘Well, here I am. How can I help?’
‘I was hoping you’d be free to come down to the pub and rehearse the sword fight with a stand-in. Adie’s hurt his ankle,’ she said flatly.
‘Sure, not a problem.’
In the wings on the far side of the stage Fiona was glowing white hot. ‘Wait,’ she barked.
Gareth froze. Inwardly Carol smiled; it was almost worth the pain to see the look on his face. ‘Hi, sweetheart,’ he purred, fixing on a smile. ‘I didn’t see you there. How’re you doing?’
It wasn’t bad. He managed to sound almost pleased to see her, only the look of utter panic in his eyes gave him away. But no charm offensive, particularly one cobbled together on the hoof, was going to knock Fiona off track. It was like throwing snowballs at a tank.
‘She said that you were trying to get her into the storeroom last night,’ Fiona spat. ‘And that you’ve been chasing her too.’
‘Ah,’ said Gareth thickly. ‘Well, the thing is—’ he began.
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ said Carol, with a wave of the hand. ‘I’m sure Adie can talk us through the fight.’
‘No, no—wait,’ said Gareth, but it was too late, Fiona had already run across the stage and caught tight hold of his arm. It was like watching a wounded animal being brought down by a bad-tempered hyena.
‘I want to know what exactly you think you’re up to,’ Fiona snapped.
Gareth held his hands up in defence. ‘I don’t follow you,’ he spluttered, still managing to hold tight to a very unconvincing smile.
Whatever lies he was planning to tell, Carol re ally didn’t want to hear them, and without looking back she made her way towards the door.
It was only when she got outside that Carol started to shake and let the tears flow. ‘The bastard, the total and utter bastard,’ she whispered over and over again, although in amongst the pain and humiliation there was a real sense of relief and certain joy at being free. It would be so nice to see Raf and the boys—so nice to see Raf and know in her heart that it was all right to love him, and that she had got it right after all.
Through the closed doors of the main hall she could hear Fiona shrieking although Carol didn’t try terribly hard to make out exactly what she was saying.
Yes, it would be great to see Raf. She grinned and then felt a little flutter of anxiety. What would it be like when they met up again? Would he be hurt that she had gone to meet Gareth, would he understand? The grin faded. What if finding out what Gareth was re ally like and what she truly felt about him cost her the real thing?
THIRTEEN
‘Right, so what have we got here then, let me see. That’s a pint of bitter shandy and a cheese and pickle ploughman’s for you, Jake, and chicken nuggety dinosaurs and chips for you, m’lad.’ Solicitously Raf unpacked the trays of food and drinks for everyone, then stood back to survey his handiwork. ‘Now, are we all set? Have you all got what you ordered?’
From the far side of the table, tucked up between Jasmine and Jake, Patrick giggled and held up a beaker of juice in one hand and a deep-fried breadcrumbed diplodocus in the other.
‘Good lad,’ said Raf with a grin.
Leonora looked up at Raf. ‘Thank you for this, it’s re ally kind. I can’t thank you enough.’
Raf beamed. ‘Not at all. Now get stuck into your lunch before it gets cold.’
His mobile rang. He put the receiver to his ear with a sense of both relief and trepidation. ‘Carol. How are you doing?’
‘Hello, Raf. I’m fine…’ For a few seconds she sounded so very unsure and nervous that his heart sank; maybe this was it after all.
‘How’s it going?’
‘Oh, so-so.’ She spoke as if feeling her way forward. ‘Whereabouts are you?’
‘We’re here in Burbeck already, but as we were a bit early I’ve taken a table in a nice little pub down in the village—it’s packed to the gills with drunks and strange men wearing all manner of dressing-up clothes, so I assume we’ve got the right place. It’s either that or we’ve come across some strange sect of morris dancers out on a day trip.’
Carol laughed. ‘Certainly sounds like our lot. Is the pub called the Master’s Arms?’
Raf glanced down at the menu card on the table. ‘The very same.’
There was a long pause and then Carol said softly, ‘That’s good. It’s re ally nice to hear your voice, Raf. I’ve missed you.’
‘I’ve missed you too,’ he said tenderly. ‘Are you OK?’ There were a thousand questions in three short words.
‘I am now.’ He heard the tension ebbing out of her voice. ‘I’ll walk down to meet you—I’ll be there in five minutes.’ There was a long, warm pause. ‘And Raf?’ she said, pulling him back from the edge.
‘Yes?’
‘I love you.’
Raf beamed with joy. There was no lie, no fear, no lingering doubt in Carol’s voice. He hadn’t realised until now just how nervous and tense he had been. Relief washed through him. He didn’t need to know the details of how Carol had come to that conclusion; they didn’t matter. It was enough that she knew with such certainty. ‘I’m glad, and you know what?’ he said.
Carol giggled. The sound made him grin.
‘Tell me,’ she purred.
‘I love you too,’ he said. ‘And I can’t wait to see you. Be here soon.’
As he hung up, across the table Ollie groaned and looked heavenwards. ‘God, do you two re ally have to do that?’ he groaned. ‘All that kissy, fussy, lovey-dovey stuff?’
Raf slipped the phone into his top p
ocket and patted it. ‘Indeed we do,’ he said. ‘There’s no point getting older if you can’t spend a fair portion of your time making young people feel deeply uncomfortable and cringing with embarrassment.’
‘All that snuggy stuff makes me sick. It’s always the same with you pair,’ said Ollie, pulling a face.
Raf shook his head and smiled; if only that were true, or he was as certain as Ollie.
Diana was sitting at a table having a drink with Netty and a ginger guy who coincidentally happened to be in there too; he was someone she had completely forgotten about called Peter Fleming, who had been in their year and seemed to remember her and Netty very well. Diana peered across the room, recognising Jake and Ollie at a nearby table about the same time as Carol came into the bar.
Diana was up and on her feet and halfway across the room before she had time to reason out what she was doing or why.
Halfway through a sentence Netty’s mouth dropped open. ‘What the hell…?’ she began, but Diana was long gone.
‘Was it something we said?’ asked Peter, watching her progress as Diana elbowed her way through the crowd.
Although Diana didn’t know Leonora and Jasmine, it wasn’t hard to work out who was who. She looked from face to face and considered what to do next; this was possibly not going to be the easiest set of introductions.
As she watched, Raf got to his feet, Carol took one look at him and broke into a huge grin and stepped forward into his arms. In the space between their eyes meeting and their embracing, Diana worked her way level with their table, Netty and Peter on the other side of the bar watching her open-mouthed.
Carol stepped back to look Raf up and down, not even registering Leonora or Jasmine or the boys.
‘It’s so good to see you,’ she said to Raf, her eyes alight with joy.
Diana sighed; maybe it was going to be all right after all.
Raf grinned. ‘You too, darling one,’ he said. ‘I was afraid that maybe you weren’t going to make it back.’
Carol’s eyes filled with tears and Raf folded her into his arms.
At which point Patrick threw out his arms and yelled, ‘And me and me.’
Carol turned, saw Diana, Ollie, Jake and then Patrick, Maisie and Leonora and Jasmine. Her expression registered surprise, but before she could speak, Diana stepped a little closer, offered her hand to Raf and said in a firm and warm voice. ‘Hi, Carol, hello, Raf, how nice to see you again.’
Raf nodded and, after shaking her hand, embraced her. While barely pausing for breath, Diana continued, ‘And you must be Leonora. We spoke on the phone,’ and held her hand out across the crowded table.
Leonora smiled. ‘Oh hi, I’m so pleased to meet you. Thank you for sorting all this out. I don’t re ally know what I would have done without you and Raf.’
Carol looked even more bemused. Netty, whose expression suggested she had run out of patience, arrived with Peter Fleming in tow and said, ‘What is going on?’
Diana’s smile held firm. ‘Carol, Netty. This is Gareth’s wife, Leonora Howard.’
There was a beat, a moment’s unfathomable silence and then Carol appeared to regain her composure, straightened up and held out a hand in greeting. ‘Delighted to meet you,’ and then she turned to Jasmine and said, ‘And you are?’
Jasmine made a peculiar little choking noise in the back of her throat. ‘I’m Jasmine,’ she said nervously.
And then Leonora added in a far stronger voice, ‘Gareth’s girlfriend.’
Diana saw Carol’s expression slip just a fraction.
Netty hissed, ‘Fucking hell,’ under her breath, while across the table Jasmine reddened and her eyes filled with tears. Peter Fleming looked from face to face; a long way behind, he hadn’t a cat’s chance in hell of catching up.
‘I didn’t know,’ Jasmine said thickly. ‘I re ally didn’t. I had no idea. I’m not a home-wrecker or anything. Gareth told me that he was getting a divorce. He said he’d left her.’
‘It’s all right,’ said Leonora, gently stroking her arm. ‘I do know that and you know I don’t blame you.’
‘I didn’t know,’ Jasmine said again, looking unhappily from face to face.
Carol looked across at Diana and said in an undertone, ‘But you did, didn’t you?’
Diana nodded. ‘Yes, but only since Saturday. Would you like a drink?’
‘I think I could probably do with one.’
‘What exactly is going on here?’ snapped Netty.
Raf was back on his feet. ‘Let me get them. What do you want?’
‘I’ll have a JD and Coke,’ Carol said hastily.
Raf lifted an eyebrow. ‘Bit early in the day for you, isn’t it?’
Carol waved his surprise away. ‘Dutch courage. I’ve got a feeling that it’s going to be a long afternoon.’
In more ways than one, thought Diana as she guided Carol towards the bar. ‘And I’ll get them,’ she said briskly to Raf. ‘You eat your lunch while it’s hot.’
Diana’s fingers closed around her arm; Carol needed no further invitation.
‘Well?’ she said softly.
‘I’m sorry but I couldn’t tell you,’ Diana said in a voice so low it was almost inaudible. ‘I was so afraid that you might say something to Gareth and you must see that Leonora needs to talk to him. You probably hate me.’ She paused, trying to gauge Carol’s reaction. ‘I didn’t feel as if I had a choice.’
Carol sighed, feeling the anger draining away, and glanced back over her shoulder. ‘No, I don’t hate you. God, what a shitty position to be in.’
‘You’re not angry?’
Carol shook her head. ‘I don’t know. Yes, no? I suppose I feel hurt that you didn’t feel you could trust me, but I can understand why. I probably would have said something. Gareth is so bloody plausible.’ She looked up, eyes bright with tears. ‘I nearly lost everything. Those kids are so sweet. You know that I truly thought he’d left her too?’
Diana nodded. ‘He did. On Friday afternoon.’
Carol stared at her, colour draining. ‘Oh God. What a total and utter shit that man is. I feel as if I’ve made a total fool of myself. Does anyone else know about all this?’
Netty, elbowing her way between them, growled, ‘Well, I don’t. Is anyone going to tell me what the hell is going on here or have I got to try and make something up?’
Carol narrowed her eyes and looked back across the crowded bar. ‘Wasn’t that Peter Fleming, the freckle king, over there?’
Netty pulled a face. ‘You want to make something of it?’
Carol shook her head. ‘No.’
Netty got the point, sniffed and made her way round to the other side of the bar. ‘I need to know, you know.’
‘We’ll tell you all about it later,’ said Diana over her shoulder, and then to Carol: ‘Nobody else knows at the moment. I thought it would be better if I kept it to myself.’
‘You are a saint Di—and a complete cow.’
Diana braced herself, wondering if Carol might let rip but instead she smiled. ‘You did the right thing. I believed him; I thought she was mad and that he was the wounded one. And to be honest, I don’t know if I would have told him or not. Tough call for you, though.’
Diana nodded. ‘I know. So how did it go with Gareth?’
Carol laughed. ‘Actually, it is the most perfect timing. I wouldn’t go back with him if he was the last man on earth, although it took me a while to sort it all out in my head. I was very nearly taken in. He’s very persuasive.’
Diana nodded back towards the table. ‘And what about Raf?’
Carol’s expression widened out into a huge beaming smile. ‘Gareth made me realise just how bloody lucky I am to have him.’
Diana smiled. ‘I’m re ally glad. Leonora is going to need a lot of moral support when they meet up.’
‘Seems to me like they all are.’
Diana nodded. ‘You can say that again; Jasmine’s pregnant.’
Carol felt her jaw drop, at
which point Raf reappeared. ‘Have you two eaten, only if you haven’t you’d be welcome to join us? There’s plenty to go around.’
Carol shook her head. ‘I’d love to, sweetheart, but actually we ought to be getting back to the hall. We’ve got a lunch being cooked there—and we still need to try and find a standin for Macduff.’
At which point Netty turned round with a drink in her hand and growled, ‘And I’m hoping that if I get this pair on their own then someone will tell me what the fuck is going on.’
At bang on half-past two, Mr Bearman stepped out from between the heavy navy-blue velvet curtains of the stage at Burbeck House and shuffled his notes into order. The house lights dimmed slowly until at last a single spotlight picked him out like a tomcat on a moonlit wall. The hubbub in the hall died away to a low hum and the odd cough, and then at last there was complete silence.
Mr Bearman cleared his throat and then in a deeply theatrical voice he said, ‘Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. We would like to welcome you to Burbeck House, and to this most extraordinary production of Shake-speare’s tragedy, Macbeth. It is a great privilege and an honour to be here with a play and a cast reunited after twenty years. I think we are all agreed that it has proved a most interesting and, in some ways, life-changing weekend for many of us.’
He looked fondly towards the wings and continued, ‘It has been wonderful to see the young people we taught all those years ago grow into such fine men and women. We would all like to thank Diana Brown for bringing this amazing idea to fruition and for the dedication and fortitude in getting us all together in one place at one time with such amazing goodnatured enthusiasm. So, once again, thank you all for coming to watch us. Thanks too to the cast and crew for showing up after all these years—and enough of my ramblings, as Mr Shakespeare said himself in another of his works; “The play’s the thing.”’
And with that there was a flurry of applause and Mr Bearman lifted an arm to indicate the stage as he moved out of the spotlight. Very slowly the curtains opened to reveal the three witches, well-loved wart and all, crouched around a large plastic cauldron on the blasted heath, scripts in hand while from somewhere close by came the sounds of the crew making all manner of wild and windy-day noises. Diana, Netty and Jan cackled maniacally and began to stir the pot.
