“I am fine, just a headache building up. It is so hot in this room.” Steve willed a smiled on to his face. It wasn’t Margaret’s fault that his situation had deteriorated in the last few years. Things had turned for the worse ever since Ruth had broken off their relationship. Their trysts had been the only thing that made the boredom of his terrible life a little better. People just did not understand how he felt having to care for a disabled wife. He did not love Ruth. He loved Margaret or at least felt beholden to her. Didn’t everyone say what a noble and caring husband he was? He was proud of that image. How could Ruth expect him to spoil this picture of the caring husband by leaving Margaret for her? He was sure that Ruth had broken off with him because he wouldn’t leave Margaret. He took the teapot and winked at his wife. “I’ll put the kettle on and refresh the tea.”
Steve went into the kitchen. A pile of plates was waiting to be washed and the sink was cluttered with mugs and saucepans. He used to be house-proud. Not any more. He filled the kettle and put it on the stove. “Selfish bitch!” he muttered. He remembered bitterly the scene in the headmaster’s office after Ruth resigned. He was given a month’s notice to leave and no reference. He was out of a job for months and had to scrape and borrow just to keep afloat. Who could blame him, he asked himself, if his feelings for Ruth turned to hate? So when, out of the blue, a private detective contacted him about Ruth, he had willingly cooperated with him. He acknowledged that he had embroidered on the account of their affair. Finding someone to doctor the photographs of them was a stroke of genius. This was what they wanted, wasn’t it? And he was paid handsomely for it. The money, however, was soon gone and no more, it appeared, was forthcoming from that source. It was sheer bad luck coming at a time when he was again unemployed.
“The two-timing bitch. Cavorting with the natives. Now she is back!” He crashed his fist against his other palm. “I’ll make her pay for getting me the sack.”
***
The table groaned with the weight of food on it. Two large quiches, several types of cakes, a potato salad, a green salad, French beans laced with sliced plum tomatoes and boiled eggs, and platters and platters of barbecued meats sat snugly against each other. Sue came out with yet another dish, her crowning glory she claimed. “It is my own special summer pudding made from berries fresh from the garden. May, with an apron tied snugly round her waist, followed with a huge jug of cream. “More cream, in case there isn’t sufficient,” she grinned cheekily nodding at another jug of the same already in place at the other end of the table. “I have my instructions,” she explained. “Blame Sue. She’ll have us all fattened, if we are not careful.”
“James, you can stop now,” said Hugh sauntering to the barbecue. “I think there are enough burgers, sausages, chicken, and steaks to feed an army. Go on. Take a rest.” Hugh took the fork from James. He gave a desultory poke at the smouldering fire and went back to the table. He was relaxed, more relaxed than he had been for months. He looked at May and saw how happy she was. Perhaps they should also consider living in the country.
James was wary of leaving the barbecue as the fire was still smouldering away. He took a bottle of water and dashed some of its contents onto the barbecue. Smoke billowed. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand leaving a streak of black on his cheeks. He sensed Ruth turning up beside him. They didn’t speak. There was no need for words. During the course of the day they seemed to have settled into a companionable silence that he found comforting. She handed him a glass of lemonade. He took it with a smile. He looked tenderly at her. Her hair was blowing wildly round her face. James brushed a lock away from her face. Taken back by his own actions, he stammered an apology.
“I don’t mind.” She knew he was shy and wanted to allay his embarrassment. “Come, let’s join the others.” She walked ahead, the soft folds of her skirt brushing her tanned legs. James followed her with his eyes.
“Did you see how he looks at Ruth?” May nudged her husband. “I think he loves her.”
“Don’t meddle! You should not try to be a matchmaker!”
“He seems a lovely man despite your nondescript characterisation of him. Let’s hope something good will happen for Ruth. She deserves it.”
***
The wind whipped up speed. Craig and Libby had run all the way down the hill and were breathless. Libby doubled over, her face red with the exertion. Craig held a hand to his side. “I won this time,” he said jubilantly.
“Only by this much.” Libby held up her thumb and index finger and narrowed them until only a miniscule gap lay between them. “I am just out of practice, because mum doesn’t like me wandering out on my own and certainly not up the hill.”
“Are things better?” he asked, a serious note in his voice.
“Yes! Mum is happier. She likes it here and Uncle James has been very kind to us. I like him.” Libby noticed that Craig had changed. His voice was deeper. He spoke differently and had also grown significantly taller. The easy companionship they had when they were younger was diminished. In moments like this, she felt shy.
They stood on the narrow stone bridge that led back to the village, each wondering about the other. Craig picked a stone and skimmed it across the river. “Then we’d better get back to the party before anyone misses us. I am ready for a glass of lemonade.”
They began running again. A cloud of dust followed them. From across the river, a man waved at them. “Stop! Wait!” he yelled.
They stopped. The man broke into a jog towards them. He was clutching a hat. Sweat dribbled down his face. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face before setting the hat back on his head. Libby thought him vaguely familiar. He was good looking in a kind of smarmy sort of way. She had learnt the word from Gracie, her friend who had used that description of her stepfather. Gracie explained that her stepfather had a shifty look about him and a permanent insincere smile plastered on his face. The man in front of them fitted that description.
“Can you tell me the way to Footman’s Cottage?” he asked.
The children looked at each other. The man smelt of alcohol. Tiny veins of red spread like a spider’s web on both his cheeks. His eyes were, however, intent and watched them like a hawk.
“Who do you want to see?” Craig stared at the man. He had taken an instant dislike to him.
“Ruth Lampard. We used to work in the same school when she was in London. Her husband died in Malaya. She has a daughter.”
Craig turned to Libby. She leaned into his ear. “I think I have seen him once at mum’s school.”
“So shall we take him to your mum?”
Libby hesitated and then nodded. He must know her mum if he knew so much about her.
“Follow us, sir.”
***
The hot sultry summer afternoon had settled to a warm eventide as the sun began its decline. Bees hummed and buzzed amongst the lavender bushes. James and Hugh made their way to the reclining chairs under a big cedar tree. Ruth watched the two men sit themselves down, drinks in hand.
“They certainly look comfortable with each other,” said May. “Hugh likes James. He said he was nice and for Hugh that is a big compliment. “
“It has been such a beautiful day. Look at the sky, not a cloud in sight.” Ruth threw up both her arms. If she could, she would embrace the world. “For the first time I can confess that I am truly happy. What with you and Hugh here, Craig, Lin, Libby and Michael.”
“You forgot to mention James and Sue. He is keen on you. I see how he looks at you.” May winked mischievously at Ruth.
“He is not. He is attentive to everyone. It is just his way.” Ruth patted her hair self-consciously. She had found herself thinking about James quite a lot these past few weeks. She stole a glance in the direction of the cedar tree. James was smiling at something that Hugh had said. He looked solid, dependable and above all kind, a description that sprang to mind every time she saw him. There was no affectation in his behaviour. When she first met him,
she thought he was the local farmer, well-spoken and somewhat posh, with a spare cottage to let. He spoke with genuine respect and kindness to everyone, young, and old, rich and poor. If only she could allow herself to think that he might like her. But how could she with her background? She blushed. She could not forgive herself for what she had done in the past. How could she expect anyone else to do so? She thought of Omar. She had not heard from him. The only news she had got was from May when she showed her the news article about his wedding and his rise in politics. Ruth was glad that he had found someone else. It would never have worked; Siti, his mother, had been right.
She went across to the table and began clearing up the plates and glasses. May had placed little netted food covers over the uneaten food and was now folding them away before transferring the food on to a huge tray to be taken indoors.
May sighed. “I wish I could stay in a place like this, away from the city. London is wonderful but I would rather be in the country.”
“I wish you were nearer to me too. It would be wonderful to...” Ruth looked up. Craig and Libby were running towards them. Right behind them was...! She dropped the plate she was holding. It crashed onto the table, knocking a glass down, and broke into smithereens. It can’t be, she thought. She shivered despite it being warm.
May reached out and took Ruth’s hand. “What’s the matter?”
“It is him!” She wanted to run, to hide. There was nowhere she could hide. Libby! What had Steve said to her? Had he somehow found out that Libby was his? She could feel her knees buckling underneath her. She gripped the table tight.
“The children seem to have brought another guest,” Hugh called from his reclining seat.
Ruth saw James rise and walk towards the children, his hand extended in welcome. She couldn’t speak. Horrified, May put an arm around Ruth. “You mean he is the Steve?”
Ruth could not remember her reply. She somehow managed to walk towards them. Her legs were wooden and she, a robot in automatic motion. She had to forestall James. The children looked at her in expectation. They sensed that something was wrong and were scared. “Mummy, he said he knows you from your school when we lived in London.”
“It has been a long time,” Steve stepped forward. He looked her up and down with insolence and familiarity before placing both hands on her shoulders. He leaned forward to kiss her. Ruth shook him off.
“What do you want?” Ruth’s voice was low. She could see James from the corner of her eye. He stood frozen, a bewildered look on his face. The hand he had extended in welcome fell limply to his side. He was looking at them, his eyes full of unasked questions. He hated the man’s familiarity. He saw the fear in Ruth’s face.
May went quickly to James. She didn’t want James to catch what Steve was going to say. “Perhaps we should leave them to talk,” she said to James. She bid Libby and Craig over. The children went reluctantly. James hesitated.
“If you want me, I am just over there,” he called out to Ruth. Reluctantly, he went back to the reclining chair, shifting it so that he could have Ruth in sight. He was worried for her. He had never seen her so upset before.
“What do I want?” Steve snarled. “What do you think I want?”
“Can we do this some other place, some other time?”
Steve looked over to James. He sniffed, his nostrils flared. “New boyfriend? Don’t you think he would want to know as well? Bet he doesn’t know about us.”
Ruth didn’t know what to say. She was filled with horror and disgust. How could she have taken this man as her lover? The buzzing of the bees seemed to grow louder. Her head drummed with incoherent thoughts. She drew herself up. She couldn’t hide from Steve forever. She couldn’t hide from her shameful past. She would just have to see it through this time.
“I have nothing to hide from my friends. You can’t harm me more than you have already done,” Ruth looked across at James, anguish in her eyes. She saw the way James looked back at her. She realised then that he loved her! She regretted that he was here to witness her shame. She turned away, unable to bear the pain of losing him, for she was sure that he was as good as lost to her. How could she not have known that he loved her after all the care that he had given her this past year. His face said it all. Now it was too late. He wouldn’t after this.
“Do what you want?” she said softly to Steve.
Steve sneered. He pushed his face close to hers. She could smell his breath and recoiled.
“I came to offer you a lifeline. All I want is compensation for losing my job, my reputation and my life. But I see that you are still too high and mighty. You think you are better than me?” Steve tossed his head in the direction of James, his eyes narrowed to a slit. “You think he would still want you after I tell him the sort of person you were, still are?”
“Tell him, if you wish. I won’t succumb to your blackmail.”
“Maybe your new man will if he loves you. He might pay to keep your good name. If he doesn’t, then you know where you stand with him.”
Steve spun round and walked purposefully towards James. May ran to Ruth. She wanted to stop Steve. She couldn’t hear the conversation but the evil on Steve’s face left her in no doubt that he meant harm. “Stop him!” she begged Ruth. Ruth shook her head. Her shoulders were slumped in defeat. May looked across at the horrified and bewildered faces of the children. At least, she thought, Steve had no inkling of Libby’s parentage. He would say if he did. She caught Hugh’s eyes. Stay calm, they seemed to say to her.
***
James watched Steve striding towards him.
“He is here to make trouble again,” Hugh said to James under his breath. “Ruth had a relationship with him when she was married to Mark. She ended it a long while ago. But he won’t give up. He wants to hurt her and blacken her reputation. I thought you should know that before you listen to his lies.” Hugh leaned back on his chair, his eyes intent on James. He hoped he had said sufficient to help Ruth.
James got up. He took two steps towards Steve. Before Steve could speak, he took him by the collar with both hands and lifted him off his feet. He held him suspended in the air and then he dropped him down like a sack. “Get out! I do not want to see you here or near Ruth ever again. If I ever see you trying to contact her or me, for that matter, I will get the police on you. Now scram!” James gave Steve a shove.
“You think she is so pure! She might look as though butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth but she is a slut! Look at these photographs!” Steve pulled out a wad of pictures from his jacket and waved it at James.
“I don’t want to. I don’t have to.” James looked across at Ruth. She was trembling. “I believe in her.” He wrenched the pictures from Steve’s hand and tore them up.
“I have copies.” Steve’s eyes bulged. He was mad with anger. Sweat poured from his forehead.
“And I will hound you to the ends of the earth if you ever bring these up again. Blackmail is a very serious crime and I have you recorded here.” James patted the bulge in his shirt pocket. His voice was deadly calm. “I always carry a recorder around, part of my training in dealing with criminals. Now go!”
Hugh got up and went to stand next to James to give him support. James could feel Hugh’s eyes on him because Hugh knew that he did not have a recorder. He had a big box of matches left over from lighting the fire.
Sue came running out. “I have called the police. They will be here any moment.”
Steve hesitated. He glared at Ruth. He spat landing a gobbet at her feet. “You’ll pay for this. All of you! Particularly you! Slut!”
Chapter 45
IF SHE COULD have burrowed herself into the earth like an earthworm, she would have done so. Ruth could not stop trembling. She could feel the hammering of blood in her temples. Most of all she could not stop her shame. Libby was running to her. She bent forward, opening her arms to receive her daughter. She wondered what she should say. She caught sight of May carrying Michael; May was staring at her with concer
n and sympathy from across the lawn, where just minutes ago such a joyous gathering had taken place. She turned to look at James. He locked eyes with her. She could not tell from his face what he was thinking. Had he really meant what he had said? she wondered. Did he believe in her? She blinked her tears away. His grim face told her no. With an overwhelming sense of loss, she swept Libby into her arms and buried her face in Libby’s neck. “Mummy will explain,” she whispered, her hot tears soaking into Libby’s neck. “Come home with me.”
They turned and walked away, back to the cottage watched by everyone in the garden. Ruth pushed open the blue gate and then the front door. Libby followed her into the cottage. “I am so sorry I brought the man back. Who is he? Why did he call you a slut?”
Ruth closed the door. She stood in the tiny hallway. Coats, jackets and scarves hung from a line of hooks on one side. On the opposite wall was a painting of a cottage similar to Footman’s Cottage with hollyhocks and delphiniums in its front garden. It was a normal everyday scene in someone’s normal, everyday life. Totally unlike her own. How could she explain to her daughter? How could she tell Libby that she had cheated on Mark, whom Libby believed to be her father, with that man?
“I am sorry.” Ruth dropped her face into the palms of her hands; her voice wobbled. She stayed in that way, unable to speak. All was quiet outside the house. She forced herself to lift up her head and look at her daughter. Her lips quivered. “... Steve, the man who said all the vile things, taught in the same school as I did many, many years ago. I was very lonely then. Your father and I were not getting on. He was depressed from his inability to find work and recover his memory. He drank. I began to resent it. Steve came along and we became close. We had an affair. It was wrong of me to do that. You see, when your father and I came back to England, I was filled with hope that our life would return to normal. When that did not happen, my disappointment turned to resentment. I took matters into my own hands. I tried to find happiness elsewhere.” Ruth saw the horror in her daughter’s face. She could not bring herself to make it worse by telling her that Mark had himself been unfaithful and that part of her actions was in retaliation for his neglect and involvement with May. What good would it do to dash her daughter’s faith in people whom she loved and loved her. Libby’s view of May would change forever if she knew. At such a tender age she would never understand. She caught hold of Libby’s wrist. “Please. I broke up with Steve a long time ago, before we went to Kuala Lumpur. He harbours a grudge against me and wants revenge. He wants money.”
Where the Sunrise is Red Page 29
