As for Camilla’s life, she lived alone in a small cottage on the outskirts of Heatherlea, that was a five-minute walk from Jackie’s and, in the other direction, from Dawn’s. Her family members were close enough that she could get to them with ease but far enough away to allow her some space. Although recently, even though she still kept busy running her accountancy business, with regular meetings with clients and trips into London, she’d begun to feel that something might be missing. Coming home to an empty cottage, however pretty and cosy it might be, wasn’t as much fun as it had once been. She suspected it just had something to do with the dark nights and mornings that came with winter and that as soon as spring made an appearance; she’d feel more positive again.
“More wine, Camilla?” Jackie held up the bottle.
“No thanks, Mum. I haven’t drunk this glass yet.”
Camilla took a sip of the Chablis and enjoyed its honeyed-stone fruit flavour balanced with a pleasant minerality.
“Rick?” Jackie held up the bottle.
“Just half a glass, thank you. I’ve promised Laura and James a kick around later, once dinner goes down.”
Jackie poured wine into his glass then filled her own. Camilla swallowed her surprise as her mother knocked back her drink then refilled her glass again. She was about to make a joke of it when Jackie raised shiny eyes to meet Camilla’s. Now might not be the best time to raise the topic, even in jest. Her mother had never had an alcohol problem, but perhaps she had had a tough week and was just letting her hair down. After all, she rarely went out and still worked hard on her cleaning rounds, so she deserved to relax over Sunday lunch with her family.
“We made a trip to the vet yesterday.” Dawn speared a piece of broccoli with her fork then raised it to her mouth but kept her eyes on her plate.
“You did?” Camilla ran a hand through her hair. “What for?”
“Poor Lulu was limping. At least Mummy said she was but I thought she looked fine,” James said. “Mummy was worried she’d broken her leg.”
“How would she have managed to do that?” Jackie asked.
Dawn shrugged. “Hopping around.”
Camilla turned her gaze to Rick and noticed that his cheeks were slightly flushed.
“Hopping around? What she suddenly hopped a bit too hard?” Camilla stared at her sister.
“She wasn’t herself and I thought she was reluctant to put weight on her back right leg, so we decided a trip to see the vet might be best. Just to be sure.”
“Of course. And what did Tom… I mean, the vet, say?”
“Nothing wrong with her that he could see. He suggested keeping a close eye on her over the weekend and that if I see her limping again, to take her back on Monday and he’ll consider doing an x-ray.”
“So you basically bothered the poor man on a Saturday for nothing.”
“It wasn’t nothing,” Dawn replied. “It could have been something and after what happened to Wallace—” She bit her lip and glanced at her children. “I mean… you know…” Dawn’s cheeks glowed and Camilla had to take a gulp of wine to stop herself smiling.
“What Dawn means, is after we found out that Wallace was a girl, when all that time we’d believed she was a boy…” Rick leapt in to rescue his wife then stared meaningfully at Camilla. “We don’t want to take any chances with their health.”
Camilla nodded. She knew that Dawn had almost slipped up about how they’d lost their first guinea pig suddenly then Allie and Chris had rushed to find a replacement, but the replacement had turned out to be a pregnant female.
“Anyway…” Dawn sipped her water. “Doctor Stone… or is it Mr Stone… I’m never sure with vets… seems very nice. Wasn’t he nice, Rick?”
“He was indeed. Seems like a decent enough sort.”
Rick and Dawn smiled at Camilla and she wriggled in her chair.
“Well that’s great. I’m really happy for you both. And I hope that poor Lulu will be okay.”
“I’m sure she will.”
“Can we have dessert now, please?” James asked.
“Of course, darling.” Jackie drained her glass then pushed her chair back. She reached for the gravy jug but it slipped from her grasp and clattered onto her plate, sending gravy and bits of roast potato everywhere.
Laura gasped. “Uh oh… Look what you did.”
Jackie pursed her lips. “Ooops! Butterfingers. Nothing that won’t clean up.”
She picked up her plate and kept one hand on top of the gravy jug to stop it sliding off then lifted her chin and left the dining room.
Camilla met Dawn’s eyes and mouthed What’s going on?
Dawn shook her head.
“I’ll go and give Mum a hand.” Camilla stood up and took some of the plates through to the kitchen. She found Jackie standing in front of the sink, gazing out at the garden.
“Everything okay, Mum?” She put the dirty plates on the worktop then rubbed her mother’s shoulders.
“What?” Jackie turned to her. “Oh… yes, Camilla, everything’s fine.”
“Are you sure? You’ve been a bit distracted today.”
“I’m fine, darling.” Jackie went to the fridge. “I made a simple trifle for dessert. I hope that’s okay.”
“Trifle is lovely.”
Jackie nodded then placed the familiar cut glass bowl that she always used for trifles on the worktop and opened a drawer to find a serving spoon.
“It’s just… I had an email you see.”
Camilla frowned. Hadn’t they just been talking about trifle?
“An email?”
“Yes, darling. This morning. I opened my emails to check when my Amazon order was coming and… ooh, do you know, I forgot to check if the full order had been despatched. I ordered the loveliest pyjamas for the children and for Dawn I ordered a pair of those stretchy jeans with the panel for her tummy. She is getting quite big now isn’t she?” Jackie smiled. “Ah… a new grandchild on the way. Just delightful.”
“Mum? You’re worrying me now. Can you tell me what the email said?”
“Email?” Jackie’s green eyes flickered. “Oh, yes! It said—”
The doorbell rang, its tinny rendition of The White Stripes My Doorbell echoing through the house. Rick had bought it for Jackie for her birthday, telling her it made her a trendy grandmother.
“Saved by the bell!” Jackie grinned then strode out of the kitchen and through the hallway.
Camilla held her breath to listen. It was rare that people called round on Sundays, especially to her mother’s house. It was probably someone collecting for a charity or a client of her mother’s come to pay for a recent cleaning job.
She went to the sink and squirted lemon washing up liquid into the bowl then turned the hot tap on. She wrinkled her nose as the steam sent the fake citrus smell into the air. She heard the front door close again. Presumably, her mother had dealt with their visitor quickly and efficiently, as was Jackie’s way. Sometimes she could be eye-wateringly abrupt, and had made Camilla and Dawn cringe on more than one occasion.
“Who was it, Mum?” Camilla asked as footsteps entered the kitchen behind her.
“Someone you may or may not be pleased to see.” Jackie said.
Camilla turned around slowly, wondering why her mother had invited someone inside when they were about to have dessert.
Her mouth fell open.
Her heart flipped.
And she blurted, “What the hell are you doing here?”
4
“You’d better turn that tap off love, or the whole kitchen will be flooded.” His voice was familiar, though she’d not heard it in years, but it was also gravelly now, the voice of a heavy smoker.
“What?”
“The tap. The sink will over flow.”
Camilla turned the tap off then took a few deep breaths to steady herself. She looked down and her knuckles were white where she gripped the edges of the apron fronted sink.
“Camilla? That’s no way to gree
t someone is it?” Jackie’s voice had a strange edge to it, as if she was trying to sound calm and controlled when inside she was on the verge of screaming.
Camilla spun round. “I asked you a question.” She swallowed hard. “Dad! I said… What the hell are you doing here?”
Her father opened his arms and smiled.
“How’s my little girl, then? Such a beauty, isn’t she, Jackie? Just like you.”
Camilla watched as he turned his blue eyes on his ex-wife and she gazed up at him.
“Dad!” she snapped, keen to break whatever spell it was that he seemed to be casting over her mother. “What are you doing here? More to the point, when did you get to England?”
He waved a hand. “So many questions… and I’m absolutely parched. Put the kettle on and make your old man a cuppa, love. There’s a good girl.”
Camilla bristled. Good girl! What was she… a dog?
She was about to give him a tongue lashing when something occurred to her. She was shocked, yes. But Jackie didn’t seem shocked, so presumably the strange mood she’d been in was because her father had emailed to say he’d be visiting. But Dawn didn’t know he was here yet. And Dawn was pregnant and had been unwell over the autumn, so she needed to be spared any sudden surprises. Camilla had to protect Dawn.
She rushed across the kitchen and into the dining room.
“Camilla? Where’s the fire?’ Rick laughed as she reached the table and gripped the back of her chair.
“No fire. Not yet anyway. No fire. Uh… but… Dawn. Mum has a visitor.”
“Yes, we heard the doorbell. Charity collection is it? Don’t tell me she’s invited them in for dessert.” Dawn picked up the almost empty wine bottle. “Exactly how much of this did Mum drink?”
“NO!” Camilla’s shout made Dawn, Laura and James jump and they all stared at her. “Just listen. There’s not much time.”
Rick pushed back his chair and straightened his shirt.
“Camilla?” He raised his eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”
She sighed. Here goes.
“The visitor. It’s—”
“Me! Your dad!”
Camilla turned quickly to find Laurence Dix filling the doorway.
Dawn gasped. Rick groaned. Laura and James squealed.
“I’m home, darling. I’ve come home for Christmas.”
“I’m so sorry, Dawn. I was trying to warn you.” Camilla shook her head.
Dawn gently pushed back her chair and stood up. She placed her hands on the table to steady herself, and Camilla, overwhelmed by a need to protect her younger sister, went to her side and slid an arm around her waist.
“Girls? Aren’t you pleased to see me? I know it’s been a… a while. But I’m home now so we can make up for lost time.”
“Lost time? A lost lifetime more like.” Camilla muttered through gritted teeth.
And as they stared at the man they hadn’t seen in years, the man that Laura and James hadn’t even met, the Carpenters Close to You filled the room, and Dawn burst into tears.
Camilla curled up on her sofa, pulled the soft fawn blanket over her legs then wrapped her hands around her mug of tea. Her head ached, her eyes burned and her bottom lip was sore from biting it as she’d held back her anger earlier that afternoon. It was only just gone six in the evening, but she felt as if it could easily be gone eleven.
She gazed around her small, cosy lounge and sighed. In the silence, her sigh seemed as loud as a shout. She’d lit the log burner when she got back just after four, and its warmth permeated the room, but she was chilled to the bone. And she knew why.
Her father had turned up after twenty-five years and acted as if he’d just popped out for milk. He’d missed seeing her and Dawn grow up and missed the first years of his grandchildren’s lives. Who the hell did he think he was? It had taken all of Camilla’s strength not to run at him and pound him with her fists. For hurting her mother. For hurting Dawn. And for hurting her.
Because Camilla had been badly hurt by him, by the man who should have adored her, loved her and supported her. He’d left her and Dawn as little girls with a broken mother and a lifetime of doubt ahead of them. For Dawn, finding love and security had been paramount, but for Camilla, she’d barely been able to face a second or third date with a man just in case she fell for him. She’d refused to make herself at all vulnerable. Of course, she knew she couldn’t place all the blame on Laurence now, because she could have fixed herself and moved on. People did move on and it was wrong to languish in self-pity when there was a life to be lived, and for the most part, Camilla did enjoy her life. But as far as relationships were concerned, she steered well clear. So she didn’t hurt anyone and they couldn’t hurt her. It was safer that way.
Yet at times like this, it would be nice to have someone to talk to. Someone to cuddle her and stroke her hair and tell her that it would all be okay, that she would survive whether Laurence chose to stay in Heatherlea or went back to Benidorm.
Her father had been evasive when Camilla had asked him outright what his plans were and she didn’t like that at all. Not long after he’d arrived at their mum’s, Rick had taken Dawn and the children home – with trifle, at the children’s insistence – as he’d been worried about the effect the shock could have on his pregnant wife. Camilla loved him for it; Rick was Dawn’s rock now, whereas once it had been Camilla. That had left Camilla alone with her parents, something that hadn’t happened in decades, and it had not been comfortable at all.
Jackie had pottered around, still slightly inebriated, chattering on about nothing in particular, as if her ex-husband turning up was an everyday occurrence. Laurence had been smiley, made silly jokes and appeared to be carefree, but whenever Camilla had met his eyes, he’d looked away, as if afraid that she would see something there that would betray his intentions. Shifty was the word that had sprung into her head and she’d wanted to drag him into the garden and ask him exactly what he was playing at.
But she hadn’t. Because Camilla was good at suppressing her feelings; she’d had years of practice storing them away in a locked box at the back of her mind. She wasn’t one for emotional displays or outbursts, even when a thirty-kilo bulldog was humping her. Camilla had perfected the art of picking herself up, dusting herself off and walking away with her head held high.
She eyed her small Christmas tree that was tucked neatly in the corner of the room. The lights were dark and the tinsel reflected only the flames from the log burner. She hadn’t had the heart to switch the silver fairy lights on; it hadn’t seemed right to think of Christmas while in her current mood.
After the dinner things had been cleared away and Camilla had realised that Jackie was trying to encourage Camilla to give her and Laurence some space, she’d pulled on her boots and coat then hugged her mother and told her to be careful. Jackie had nodded against Camilla’s shoulder and murmured, ‘I know.’ Then Camilla had swapped mobile numbers with her father and asked him to meet her for a drink the next day. He’d agreed, and told her that he’d text her a time later that evening.
Her mobile sat on the arm of the sofa. It was quiet, just as it had been all evening. Its black screen hadn’t lit up once. And what did she expect? For him to contact her immediately? She evidently wasn’t – and never had been – his priority. Of course, one reason why Camilla wanted to meet Laurence alone, was to speak to him before he went near Dawn again. Although Rick was there to protect her, Camilla still didn’t want him charming Dawn if he had no intention of sticking around. And what if he did? Where would that leave them all?
Just then, her mobile buzzed making her jump. She picked it up and swiped the screen. It was a message from Jackie:
Camilla,
Don’t be mad with me but Dad is staying here for a few days. He was going to see if they had a room at the pub but I told him not to fritter away his money. We’re going to have a big talk now.
Love, Mum X
Just as she put her mobile back down, it buzzed a
gain. This time the message was from her father:
Camilla,
Shall we meet tomorrow at The Red Fox pub at 4? Be great to catch up.
Love you,
Dad
Camilla shook her head. So he’d wheedled his way back into Jackie’s home already and was acting as if he’d done nothing wrong. Well tomorrow, Camilla would have a chance to find out exactly what he was doing back in Heatherlea and to let him know how much he’d hurt them all those years ago. In her usual cool, calm and collected way of course. There was no way she’d show him a glimmer of emotion; he didn’t deserve to know that he mattered to her. Still. In spite of everything. Especially seeing as how she knew that she meant absolutely nothing to him at all.
5
Monday morning, Camilla was up bright and early following a rather restless night. When she had opened her eyes, she had a few seconds of blissful ignorance about the previous day’s events, then suddenly, it came rushing back and gate-crashed her peace of mind. There was no way she was going to be able to get any more sleep after that, so she decided to go for a walk before breakfast. She’d kept today meeting free, as she had some work to catch up with for her existing accountancy clients, so the day was hers to plot out as she wished, which was certainly an advantage of being self-employed.
A Year at The Cosy Cottage Café: A heart-warming feel-good read about life, love, loss, friendship and second chances Page 23
