Melting Ice (Roundwell Farm Trilogy)

by Rosalie Ash

  'You’re a good friend, Seb,' she told him lightly, 'And I am very, very fond of you. But apart from anything else, I couldn’t leave Roundwell. Megan and Jessica and I are building up the business, and Roundwell is my home…'

  'Don't say no finally. Think about it, Vic,' he urged persuasively. 'I've always thought maybe you and I could get together, make it work. And you're a fool if you wait around any longer for that cold-eyed antiques guy to make up his mind what he wants!'

  She stiffened and turned away. They’d walked round to the entrance to the farm shop, which was dealing with a steady trickle of customers buying organic joints and locally grown vegetables for their Sunday lunch. Soon they’d be getting in deliveries of Christmas trees for the December rush. And stocking up on Christmas decorations, and seasonal cards, hopefully all from local craftspeople.

  'It's not what he wants,' she said at last, her voice suddenly determined. 'It's what I want that matters. And what I want is to be left alone to get on with my life. Without the complication of men!'

  Sebastian gazed at her gloomily. 'A boy needs a father,' he pointed out solemnly.

  'Oh, don't you start! You're as bad as Jessica!'

  'All right, but you shouldn't let one bad experience sour you towards all the other men you meet. You never used to generalise about the male sex quite so sweepingly.' He tried to smile, but made a bleak job of it.

  She didn't answer, but in that moment she felt Sebastian had summed up her philosophy rather too accurately. Men, in her opinion, were a poor risk when it came to matters of the heart. Look at her own parents. Apart from Matt, it had been a shattering experience finding out about Dad's betrayal. Dad had deliberately jeopardised his marriage, and therefore his family life. He had virtually driven Megan away, breaking up their relationship at a crucial stage in their lives. She and Jessica and Megan had presumably been insufficient incentive to stay faithful to their mother. But then men were like that, she had long ago decided. They functioned differently, they weren't made to conceive babies, to seek security and fidelity with a life-partner.

  The odd thing was that Jessica hadn't seen it like that. She wasn't sure yet whether her sister was a gullible idiot, or a wiser woman of the world. But of course Jessica had her marriage to Andrew to sustain her rosy view of men. She could afford to be generous. And Jessica was a Matt fan, too. She would hear nothing against him.

  When her friends had gone their separate ways on Saturday afternoon, she tidied up, packed an overnight bag for herself and the usual paraphernalia that had to accompany Archie everywhere, ready to spend the night at Jessica’s house.

  Megan had been away again, up at her rented house in Alnwick, but was due back tonight in time for dinner. Elspeth had gone back to Scotland for a few days to see her parents, so Jessica had invited Megan, Victoria and Archie to stay the night with her, so they could have a long sisterly gossip, as she put it. Victoria had a sinking feeling that could be translated into a concerted bout of interrogation, with her two older sisters ganging up over her plans to include Matt in Archie’s life.

  But even with that in mind, she felt in need of Jessica’s cheerful good humour and Megan’s dry wit to snap her out of the bleak mood descending on her. She piled the bags and Archie into her car, and set off to meet her sisters with very mixed feelings.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  'Come in, Megan’s not here yet but we’ve got a lovely girlie evening because Andrew’s gone off on a golf weekend! God, you look ghastly!' Jessica announced, eyeing her up and down with concern.

  ‘I always know where to come when I want my ego boosted.’

  'You should have come up to London with Matt. Andrew and I had a marvellous time last night.'

  Victoria stared at her sister blankly.

  'You went up to London last night? You've been with Matt?'

  'Mmm.' Jessica seemed to hesitate a moment, then smiled secretively, and tugged her arm. 'Come and see my new painting,' she urged.

  Bewildered, Victoria left Archie to play with William and Jonathan under Mira's watchful care, and followed Jessica into the sitting-room. An oil painting hung over the mantelpiece, and she stared at it hard for a few minutes, before the truth dawned on her. It was Jessica, so clever and subtle that the likeness gradually materialised before her eyes like a scene through mist.

  'Very good,' she nodded approvingly. 'When did you find time to sit for it?'

  'I didn't,' Jessica told her triumphantly. 'It's not me. Now would you say my hair was straight, or curly?'

  Victoria stared at her sister uncomprehendingly, then turned back to the picture. A funny feeling tightened her throat. Jessica was right, the picture was of a woman with long, curly red hair, tumbling down over smooth, olive-skinned shoulders. The unique style and technique at first hid the true subject matter, giving an impression of random patterns in a subtle swirl of colour.

  'Well? Surely you've realised? It's you, Vic!'

  'Yes, I think I can see that now.' Victoria's voice sounded strange, muffled, quite unlike her own.

  'Matt painted it,' Jessica said. 'He finished it ages ago. I had the impression he was going to give it to you, but then changed his mind. So I persuaded him to sell it to me. Well, lend it to me, anyway! I can’t afford his paintings! I hope you don't mind. But it is good, don't you think?'

  'Yes. It's good.' She carefully avoided her sister's eyes. 'Vaguely impressionist. Very professional.’

  'He's been painting on and off for years,' Jessica explained. 'His stuff sells for megabucks. What it is to have the right contacts!'

  'True.' She supposed if his contacts were the types who frequented the receptions at De Lembers, and auction dinners at the Hurlingham Club it was no wonder he could charge so much for his pictures. She stared at the painting. She was even more confused than usual.

  'So you went to this dinner at the Hurlingham Club?' she asked, annoyed with herself for her curiosity. 'Was this something to do with De Lembers?'

  'Yes, Matt is a Vice-President of the Ski Club UK, and they'd taken over the club for this auction dinner to raise money for Dr Barnardo's Homes,' said Jessica, her brown gaze bright and alert on her sister's face. 'It was a joint production between the Ski Club and De Lembers—through their shared connection with Matt, I suppose.'

  'Oh.' Victoria sought for something non-committal to say, but she was finding it hard to remain calm and uninterested. 'It sounds very glamorous! What did you wear?'

  'That strapless copper taffeta creation we chose together that day in London, remember? And I had my hair all piled up like this.' Jessica's demonstration with her stick-straight mane made them both giggle.

  'The men wore black tie. Matt looks positively lethal in evening dress, darling!'

  'I can imagine.' Victoria hesitated, feeling slightly sick but compelled to ask the question. 'I suppose he was with some fabulous blond?' There was a give-away tremble in her voice, and Jessica glanced at her sharply.

  'No, brunette actually. Emma Goodman, his secretary. She looked stunning in a short sapphire lace dress.'

  Victoria felt herself go hot and cold.

  'I saw her at that dinner reception at De Lembers recently,’ she fought to keep her voice level, ‘But if he’s resigned from the board, how come he still keeps Emma as his secretary?'

  'I think Emma felt a conflict of loyalties when Matt resigned,' Jessica laughed. 'She decided to work part-time for him, at a slight drop in salary, I should think! What devotion!'

  'Lucky Matt.’ Victoria recalled Emma’s watchful gaze on her that night, when she and Matt had been talking together. Was Emma the one? Her stomach twisted painfully.

  Jessica was describing the fit young downhill skiers she had met, who were in hard training for the winter Olympics, but Victoria wasn't listening. She was discovering a vivid, pictorial imagination, and taking central place at the moment was an image of Matt, looking dangerously attractive in evening dress, dancing with Emma.

  'Matt seems to be in grea
t demand for private auctions,' Jessica was saying. 'He'd just flown back from Florence, where he valued some rich Englishman's hoard of paintings. I'd guess his desire to drop out and be less materialistic will be short-lived.'

  The welcome sound of Jessica’s doorbell announced Megan’s arrival, and while Jessica went to the door, Victoria lingered in front of the portrait, uncomprehendingly. Matt had been sufficiently indifferent to her to lose touch completely after that weekend together, two years ago. And yet, he had thought enough about her to paint her portrait. Quite vividly, from memory. She shook her head. She really could not think of a good explanation as to why Matt had painted a portrait of her, and then lent it to Jessica.

  Giving up, she went into the hall to greet Megan.

  ‘Sicilian Lemoncello trifle or raspberry panacotta, both homemade,’ Jessica placed two dishes of dessert on the table with a flourish, and waved her serving spoon over them, ‘Which would you like to start with?’

  ‘Oh Christ, I’m totally stuffed, but I can’t resist either of them. I’ll have the panacotta first.’ Megan said, with only a trace of guilt in her grin, ‘Although it’s really not fair, you two can eat anything you want and never gain an ounce. I only have to look at a pudding to put on three pounds!’

  ‘You’re thinner than ever,’ Victoria pointed out, eyeing Megan’s slender figure in narrow black jeans and a sleeveless fitted black top which showed off a small upper arm tattoo of roses and thorns.

  ‘That,’ Megan waved a ring-bejewelled hand to emphasise her point, ‘Is because I hardly ever eat anything. Except when Jess cooks for me.’

  ‘But I always cook with healthy low fat ingredients, don’t I?’ Jessica grinned, ‘So we’re all okay. I think I’ll have the trifle, first. What about you, Vic? You’re picking at your food tonight. You’re not going down with something, are you? She looks very pale, don’t you think Megs?’

  They’d just lingered over prawns pil pil, lamb with garlic and aubergines, and rosemary roast potatoes, accompanied by several glasses of pinot grigio. Victoria had made a deliberate effort to eat a good portion of everything, knowing that if she didn’t she risked inviting comments about her mood and state of health. It seemed that her efforts had been wasted. Jessica and Megan were clearly on the warpath.

  Megan was eating her pudding thoughtfully. Her short hair was naturally blond, but had been embellished on this occasion with several purple highlights. She also sported a defiant tattoo, and a couple of eyebrow rings. She’d deliberately moved quite a long way from the family pattern, Victoria thought wryly.

  ‘You do look a bit peaky,’ Megan said, narrowing her eyes as she looked at her more closely, ‘Is the on-line side going OK?’

  ‘It’s early days,’ Victoria began carefully, ‘Sales could be better, but they are improving. I’m working with our IT people on our SEO at the moment.’

  ‘Well, if it the internet side doesn’t take off, I’ve had another little brain wave. How about creating a country weekend retreat for teenagers trying to quit drugs?’

  ‘Oh for God’s sake Megan!’ Jessica burst out laughing, ‘Trust you to come up with something off the wall!’

  ‘Why not?’ Megan shrugged, her huge dark blue eyes switching from Jessica to Victoria with a familiar militant gleam, ‘You should meet some of the kids at my therapy workshops. A break away in the country, helping out in the nursery or the farm shop, it may sound off the wall to you, but why not if it would help them?’

  ‘There might be security issues,’ Victoria began cautiously, ‘We wouldn’t want to put Archie, or Wills or Jonathan in any kind of danger…’

  ‘Scared the evil druggies might be carrying the plague virus?’ Megan said, flicking back her feathery fringe, ‘That they might pollute your sanitised middle-class middle-England bubble?’

  ‘That’s hardly fair, Megan,’ Victoria felt herself reddening slightly.

  ‘Stop preaching at us, Megs,’ Jessica said, ‘You’re wasting your time and you know it.’

  ‘If I understand the situation correctly,’ Megan forged on, clearly enjoying winding them both up, ‘Archie’s father came from just the kind of disadvantaged background I’m talking about. Didn’t you say Matt grew up in State care? Making part of Archie’s home into a haven for kids with screwed up lives, what could be more fitting?’

  Jessica groaned and took a gulp of wine.

  ‘In principle, your idea has some merit,’ she said, ‘In delivery, as usual, it’s full of barbed implications! Don’t forget you come from exactly the same ‘middle class middle England bubble’ as Vic and me. And I can’t see how accepting coach loads of teenage rebels on smack cocaine could boost our business income, anyway. Quite the reverse, I’d have thought. More likely to scare all our customers away! So give it a rest, and have some trifle!’

  ‘Okay.’ Megan held out her dish, her expression bland. ‘But you could see what Matt thinks about the idea, Vic. He’d know what its like to be down there, on the fringe of society, on the edge of oblivion.’

  Victoria stared at Megan, feeling all her defensive hackles rising again, ‘Yes. I imagine he would. But what we do with Roundwell has nothing to do with Matt. I’ll have the lemoncello trifle as well, please Jessica.’

  ‘I see what you mean, Jessica,’ Megan said, rolling her eyes meaningfully, ‘She’s in total denial.’

  ‘Oh, don’t you start on me as well!’ Victoria flared, all her suppressed anger and emotion bubbling up to the surface, ‘Don’t you two understand? I fell in love with Matt, at first sight if you care to believe anyone could be that stupid and gullible, and he had no feelings for me at all! He completely forgot my existence for two years. Maybe he’s now developed a social conscience, after all his years of ruthless ambition and pursuit of power. Maybe, just because he’s discovered he’s a father, he thinks he can now qualify as a compassionate member of the human race. Well, he’s welcome to his bloody charity dinners, he can raise all the money he likes for children’s homes, he can shower all the adoration he possesses on his baby son, but he’s making no pretence of offering to love me! At least he’s sparing me that hypocrisy. As far as I’m concerned, he can spare me the rest as well!’

  Megan and Jessica looked at each other in silence.

  Then Megan slowly began to clap, her eyes glittering with mockery.

  ‘Great speech, darling. Did you rehearse it?’

  ‘Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, I’m told,’ Victoria said tightly.

  ‘Vic, did Matt ask you to fall in love with him at first sight?’ Jessica demanded suddenly.

  Victoria gazed angrily at the swirl of lemon and crème fraiche in the bowl in front of her. Finally, she let out a long breath.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Right. Next question, what the hell are all these bitter twisted feelings about his charity dinners, raising money for children’s’ homes? Did I miss something? Since when did charity fund raising for children make someone a despicable person?’

  ‘No, that’s not what…’

  ‘And showering adoration on his baby son, that’s just horrible, I can see why you’re so upset.’

  ‘Jessica…’

  ‘And Matt’s ruthless ambition was what dragged him away from that edge, Vic. Don’t ever forget that. And having a social conscience when you’re also rich and powerful is much more effective than if you’re poor and downtrodden. God, Vic, you seem determined to cast yourself as the only victim in all of this mess! Get over yourself!’

  ‘Jess, I think…’ Megan began, but Victoria shook her head, ashamed of tears blurring her eyes but determined not to show how upset she was.

  ‘It’s OK. Jessica’s entitled to her opinions.’ Her voice sounded brittle and shaky, even to her own ears. For some reason, hearing Jessica’s scathing remarks in front of Megan felt much more painful. She and Megan had once been so close, before Megan left home. They’d been the ones to gang up on Jessica, the bossy big sister. Now it felt as if she was very much the odd one out
, the one no-one else in the family could understand. And that hurt.

  ‘Hey, sorry if I stirred everyone up,’ Megan glanced quizzically from Jessica to Victoria, and leaned back in her chair, ‘Why don’t we change the subject and get on with planning your 21st birthday party, Vic?’ she said, ‘After all, that was the main reason for getting together for dinner tonight?’

  Jessica nodded, looking relieved.

  ‘I’ve taken the liberty of sending invites to all our suppliers. And obviously all of your friends know about it, Vic. I think it’s a great idea, having a bonfire at Roundwell, in the walled garden, fireworks, hot dogs and mulled wine. As it’s so near Christmas, I think we should string fairy lights in all the trees up the drive and in the courtyard. How does that sound?’