He took a long swig of his drink and reached for her hand. ‘And you know what? I think Mum and I are getting on better – we’ve had some massive rows over the past few weeks, and exchanged some pretty heated emails but I think I get where she’s coming from now. She’ll always say exactly what she thinks and she’s never going to approve of my career – but she’s agreed to drop that subject once and for all. And at least she’s doing more stuff for Dad and not prancing about shoving herself into the limelight.’
It did occur to Anna that since Parliament was on summer recess, there wasn’t much opportunity for Cassandra to show off, but she refrained from saying so. She was just relieved that everything was back on solid ground once more.
All she had to do now was enjoy spending time with Felix.
‘I’m so glad you could come!’ Cassandra, elegant in white linen trousers and a lime-green silk shirt, kissed Anna on both cheeks. ‘And before you say a word, can we wipe the slate clean and start afresh? It’s not your fault your father is a racist idiot and —’
‘Mum!’ Felix shot her a warning glance.
‘The thing that matters is that you matter to Felix and he matters to me. Friends?’ She looked at Anna pleadingly.
‘Absolutely,’ Anna smiled.
‘Wonderful!’ Cassandra said, clapping her hands. ‘And now if you two could just hand round the trays of canapés, while I do the meet-and-greet bit, that would be splendid.’
Anna, to her surprise, enjoyed every minute of the event. It wasn’t the stuffy occasion full of well-heeled county types that she had expected; there were lots of young families milling around the gardens, enjoying face painting, kite making and a Punch and Judy show; there was croquet on the lawn, plant stalls in the orchard and a tombola on the verandah. Lunch was buffet style served on trestle tables covered with gingham cloths, to the accompaniment of a string quartet which, Anna noted with a degree of satisfaction, was not nearly as good as Wild Chicks even though the members were more than twice their age.
‘People are spending money like it grows on trees,’ Cassandra whispered in Anna’s ear at the end of lunch, ‘and you know what? Felix is doing a wonderful job – he even spoke to the reporter from South Today about his dad and what it feels like to see someone you love slowly disintegrating – oh my dear! I’m sorry, how tactless of me! Felix told me about your mother . . .’
‘It’s OK,’ Anna assured her, astonished at the change in a woman she had made up her mind to hate. ‘I’m glad he’s talking about it. And if it gets on the local news, that would be awesome.’
‘I know, but I guess they’ll edit it right down and just show a ten-second clip,’ Cassandra laughed. ‘Right, now for the big finale – the balloon race!
Everyone, Anna included, had bought a biodegradable balloon for five pounds, and the one that flew the furthest would win.
‘Over here, everyone!’ Cassandra shouted through a megaphone as one of her committee staggered up with huge bunches of multi-coloured balloons. ‘Thank you all so much.’
‘Let’s hope she doesn’t go on too much,’ Felix whispered, sidling up to Anna and putting his arm around her shoulder. ‘She’s kept a remarkably low profile for her so far.’
‘And now perhaps the children would like to gather round while I invite Anna Eliot and my son, Felix, to cut the cords that will release the balloons.’
She turned to Anna and proferred a giant pair of bright red scissors as clusters of small kids ran up to her.
‘Me? But . . .’
‘Go on,’ Felix urged, shoving her forward. ‘Just let’s do it – then we can leave and be on our own.’
Anna and Felix squatted down to the level of the children and sliced through the cords on every bunch. The children cheered and Anna, shielding her eyes from the glare of the afternoon sun, couldn’t help laughing out loud as she watched the balloons soar upwards. As she clambered to her feet, Cassandra gave her a hug and kissed her on both cheeks.
‘Thank you so much for being here,’ she said yet again. ‘It’s meant more to me than I can say.’
‘Me too,’ Anna smiled. And she meant it.
CHAPTER 11
‘All I claim for my own sex . . . is that of loving longest when hope is gone.’
( Jane Austen, Persuasion)
‘THIS IS SO PERFECT!’ ANNA STOOD ON THE FRONT STEPS of the cottage early on Monday morning, gazing over open farmland towards the sea which was shimmering under a heat haze. Way above her she could hear the song of skylarks, something she hadn’t heard in years in Buckinghamshire; behind her, St Catherine’s Down was dotted with grazing sheep. They had arrived on the Isle of Wight the previous day and already to Anna it felt as if she was a million miles from all the problems and pressures of home.
‘And we’ve got the rest of the week to do whatever we want,’ Felix said, coming up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and nibbling her right ear. ‘What do you say we head for the beach?’
‘What about the others?’
‘Jamie and Phoebe are in the middle of a row, and Zac and Sula were last seen disappearing up the hill hand in hand and lip to lip!’
The moment they had met the previous afternoon, Anna couldn’t help noticing how Ursula looked so like Gaby that she could have been her twin. The same dark eyes and ivory skin, the same long mane of shiny hair. But there was a difference; Sula, as all her friends called her, was quieter and clearly adored Zac, always telling him how wonderful he was. Zac, in turn, was as besotted with Sula as he had been with Gaby.
Three hours later, lying on the sand at Compton Bay, almost purring as Felix languidly rubbed sun lotion on to her back, Anna felt as if she could die from pure happiness. Several girls on the beach had eyed Felix up earlier as he ran down the beach and into the sea, diving under the breaking surf and surfacing, blowing her a kiss with the light shimmering off his dark body. She could almost feel their envy as she ran towards him and let him whirl her round and dunk her under the water; and she felt a sense of total freedom and release.
‘I wish this could go on for ever,’ she sighed, rolling on to her back and running her hands through her long damp hair. ‘I don’t want anything to change.’
‘But it will,’ Felix said. ‘And I worry that . . .’ He paused, picking up a shell and turning it over and over in his hands.
‘Worry about what?’
‘What will happen when my training’s over and we get deployed somewhere. What if I get sent abroad? How will you be then?’
‘If you mean will I give up on us, you know the answer.’
‘I know – it’s just – well, I’m not stupid. You’ve got to have a life and with me miles away, and you off to uni next year, meeting loads of boys that it’ll be easier for you to be with . . .’
‘Come on! No one’s easier to be with than you . . .’
‘You know what I mean. Boys actually in the same place as you, from the same background, boys your family would approve of.’
‘I just want you, no one else,’ Anna said. ‘I don’t care what my family think. So could you get that into your head once and for all?’
‘I . . .’
She pushed him back on the sand and pressed her lips against his. And for a long while, neither of them said another word.
It was later that evening when everything went horribly wrong. The six of them were in the tiny garden of the cottage, lounging about, replete after a barbecue and rather a lot of Pimm’s. Jamie and Phoebe were speaking to one another again, albeit in monosyllables, and Sula was strumming her guitar while Zac gazed at her adoringly. Anna had just stirred the fading embers of the barbecue back to life and threaded some marshmallows on to a skewer when the landline in the cottage shrilled loudly.
‘Someone get that,’ Zac yawned. ‘I can’t move I’m so full.’
‘Your last servant died of overwork, did he?’ Felix teased, getting to his feet. ‘I’ll go.’
In the weeks to come, Anna would close her eyes and hol
d that moment in her memory as the last in which she was truly happy. At the time, all she was bothered about was not scorching the marshmallows.
‘Hello?’ She could just catch Felix’s voice above the guitar music. ‘No – it’s Felix. Felix Wentworth. What do you mean, what am I doing here?’
Anna froze, skewer in hand and her heart in her mouth.
‘I’ll call her.’ The sound of the handset crashing on to the table was followed by Felix, storming through the French windows, face like thunder.
‘For you. Your father.’ He glared at her. ‘Who clearly wasn’t told just who his precious daughter was with!’
Five pairs of eyes were fixed on Anna as she went into the house and picked up the phone. Walking through to the kitchen in order to be out of earshot, she took a deep breath.
‘Hi, Dad. What’s up?’
‘Well, you’ve really done it, haven’t you? Hit rock bottom in the loyalty stakes. And as if that wasn’t enough – you lie to me, go behind my back . . .’
The tirade that assailed her ears was ferocious, even by her father’s standards. He carried on in much the same vein before finally running out of breath.
‘Well, what have you got to say for yourself?’ he demanded.
‘I – I don’t know what you mean,’ she stammered.
‘Really? Well, let me help you,’ her father replied sarcastically. ‘I switch the TV on and there you are, on South Today, beaming up at that – that poisonous Cassandra Wentworth as if she were your fairy godmother, not the woman who has just wrecked your father’s career. And then kissing the bloody woman as if she was your favourite aunt! How could you? How dare you!’
‘It was just a charity thing,’ Anna reasoned, shocked at her father’s words. ‘For Alzheimer’s.’
‘Anna, do you have the first idea what you’ve done? I’m in the middle of a legal battle, and there you are on television, sucking up to the woman who slandered my good name. Hardly gives credence to my case, does it?’
‘I didn’t think . . .’
‘No, clearly you didn’t!’ her father stormed. ‘You’ve made me look a fool – I can just see the headlines now. It makes me feel sick just thinking about it.’
‘Dad, you’re overreacting.’
‘And now as if that wasn’t enough, I find that you’ve sneaked off behind my back on some sleazy little trip with the son of . . .’
‘I didn’t sneak off and it isn’t sleazy!’ Anna shouted. ‘I told you about it, and you told me to go and have a good time.’
‘You said Phoebe had invited you,’ her father replied furiously. ‘You made it sound like some girly holiday. And you think you can go behind my back, keeping your phone switched off . . .’
‘It’s not off, it’s just that there’s no signal in the cottage . . .’
‘And so I telephone Phoebe’s mother and discover that – that boy is with you! And there was me thinking he was safely out of the way in Devon.’
‘I’m sorry but . . .’
‘A bit late for sorry, isn’t it?’ her father ranted. ‘There’s just one thing I’m pleased about.’
‘What?’ Anna asked hopefully.
‘That your poor mother isn’t around to see what you’re doing,’ he said.
‘Dad, don’t say that!’
‘I want you home, Anna. Now!’
‘No way, Dad,’ Anna replied, struggling to keep the tears at bay. ‘We’ve only just got here and we’ve got plans.’
‘So let’s see what’s more important to you – your precious plans or family loyalty.’
‘But Dad . . .’
It was too late for any further protests. Her father had hung up.
‘So you lied.’
Felix had sat through Anna’s account of the phone call in stony silence and now he was looking at her in disbelief. The others had slipped away, clearly anxious to put space between themselves and Felix’s tight-lipped anger.
‘I didn’t lie,’ Anna protested. ‘I just didn’t tell him the whole truth.’
‘I’m not talking about what you did or didn’t say to your father,’ he snapped. ‘I’m talking about the lies you told me.’
‘I’ve never lied to you.’
‘You’ve got a pretty short memory then,’ he retaliated. ‘Just this morning, on the beach, you said you didn’t care what your family thought. You do though, don’t you? You care so much that you couldn’t bring yourself to admit you were going on holiday with me. The black guy with the embarrassing mother.’
‘Don’t you start on me!’ Anna burst into tears. ‘And for God’s sake, get rid of that chip on your shoulder! I love you and I want to be with you.’
‘But only if you can keep me hidden away so that your family don’t find out we’re together.’ He punched the palm of his hand with his balled-up fist. ‘I love you too, Anna – so much. But it can’t work if you let other people rule your life.’
‘But they don’t,’ she pleaded. ‘Dad told me to go home right now and I told him where to go. I’m staying here with you.’
Felix’s face softened slightly. ‘You said that? You refused to go?’
Anna nodded, wiping her eyes with her hand.
‘And you can hack it? The rows when you do go home, I mean?’ Felix asked.
‘Of course.’
To her relief, Felix wrapped his arms round her and gave her a hug. ‘I’m glad,’ he said. ‘And I’m sorry if I lost it – it’s just that I guess I’m jealous. I want to be the most important person in your life.’
‘You know what?’ Anna whispered softly. ‘You are. You truly are.’
‘But darling, you promised to look after your daddy . . . I can rely on you, Anna sweetheart, I know I can . . .’
‘I’m just pleased your poor mother isn’t around . . .’
‘No! Mummy, Dad . . .’ Anna shot bolt upright, sweat pouring off her and her heart racing. She stretched out her hand to switch on her bedside light and then remembered. She was on the sofa. She had been tossing and turning for hours and finally gave up any attempt at sleep and had crept downstairs to make a cup of tea. She glanced at the coffee table; the mug of tea was still there, stone cold now of course. She must have dozed off without realising.
The words in her dream were still echoing in her head. It had been so real – she had felt as if she could have reached out and touched her mum, her father’s rage was as palpable as if he had really been in the room with her.
She flopped back on to the cushions and let the tears flow. Why did it have to be like this? One minute she felt angry with her father for his bigoted, narrow-minded take on life, the next she was wracked with guilt for being the cause of all the trouble he was in. And all the time, her mother’s gentle voice was echoing in her head, ‘Look after your daddy, look after your daddy.’
For the first time since her mother’s death, a sudden wave of anger swamped her. Her mother had asked too much: looking after Walter wasn’t her job. She was seventeen, she had her life ahead of her and her dad would probably be unpredictable till the day he died. Was she supposed to put her life on hold for ever?
She got up from the sofa and opened the kitchen door as quietly as she could. To her horror, the back door was wide open. She froze – and then let out a gasp of relief as she caught sight of Phoebe standing with her back to the house, staring up at the stars.
‘Feebs?’
Her friend spun round, and Anna saw at once that she had been crying as well.
‘You got the blues, too?’ Phoebe came through the door and gave Anna a rueful smile. ‘I saw you on the sofa but didn’t want to disturb you – not that you looked very peaceful. What’s up?’
‘You don’t want to know,’ Anna said and proceeded to tell her the whole story. ‘And you?’
‘Me and Jamie – it’s a total disaster,’ Phoebe said. I should never have come. And tomorrow, I’m going to have to tell him.’
‘Tell him what exactly?’
‘Look, don’t say
a word to anyone, right,’ Phoebe whispered. ‘But I’ve met someone.’
After ten minutes, during which Phoebe alternately cried, ranted, raved and laughed, Anna discovered that her friend had been to visit her grandmother in Morpeth a few weeks earlier, had travelled back on the train with someone called Cameron, and had fallen passionately in love by the time they’d got as far as York.
‘Oh Anna, he’s just amazing,’ Phoebe said repeatedly. ‘He’s fit, and witty, and brilliant. We’ve been out five times since then and —’
‘But what about Jamie?’ Anna interjected.
‘That’s the worst part,’ Phoebe sighed, her elfin features scrunched up in a frown. ‘I had to come on this trip because Zac doesn’t know anything about Cameron yet. But being here, when I could be partying with Cameron in London – well, it’s just torture.’ She closed her eyes. ‘Cameron’s got his own flat, and a convertible, and he’s a member of all these cool clubs that you read about in the style magazines . . .’
‘But Jamie adores you and I thought you two were good together,’ Anna reasoned.
‘I just don’t feel anything for him any more,’ Phoebe confessed. ‘Not now I’ve seen what it’s like to be with a really mature guy.’
Anna laughed in an attempt to lighten the mood. ‘I reckon no boy of our age is ever really mature,’ she teased. ‘That’s half the problem.’
‘Cameron’s thirty.’
For a moment Anna was rendered speechless. ‘Thirty? But Phoebe . . .’
‘Don’t start,’ Phoebe snapped. ‘He’s wonderful, and I love him, and I couldn’t give a damn about his age.’
‘So what are you going to do about Jamie?’ Anna demanded.
‘I have to tell him. First thing tomorrow morning. I can’t string him along all week and besides, I’m missing Cameron and it’s torture not being able to phone him in case Jamie finds out.’ She ambled over to the sink. ‘Tea?’
Anna nodded.
‘But you and Felix, you’re OK surely?’ Phoebe asked. ‘I mean, parents are a pain and all that, but at the end of the day, they can’t rule our lives. And you’re nearly eighteen – what’s your dad on, thinking he can tell you what to do?’
Echoes of Love Page 12
