The Forever House: A feel-good summer page-turner

by Veronica Henry

  ‘I wanted to be the Lady of Shallot,’ objected Annie. ‘I was going to float in the swimming pool. Or Ophelia.’

  That should be me, thought Margot. Perhaps that could be her swan song. A public suicide bid at her own party. She’d be doing them all a favour.

  The party was to be on midsummer’s day, starting at six in the evening and carrying on all night. The Lucky Charms were going to play and the fountain was to be filled with ice buckets full of champagne. Sally spent days roasting hams and sides of beef which she would lay out with bread and baked potatoes and salad. She had been to enough dos at the tennis club to know that stodge was essential if utter drunken carnage was to be avoided.

  Everyone had very sweetly insisted she should ask her family to the party. Try as she might, she couldn’t imagine Beverley and Ray and Colin dressed up and mingling on the lawn. But it would be unkind of her not to invite them. It’s not as if she was ashamed of them.

  ‘Thank you very much for asking,’ her mother said when she telephoned. ‘But Saturdays I go the cinema with Artie. And Ray and Colin play footie on a Sunday morning. I don’t think they’ll want to miss it.’

  Sally felt a little relieved, and promised to go up and see them again soon.

  There were other things giving her a sense of unease. Tensions were high between Margot and Dai. Margot seemed to resent the time he spent in the garden. And Sally suspected that Margot was getting to the post before she was, because there were never any bills amongst the letters any more. Not that it was any of her business, but she had been told at more than one shop that she couldn’t have anything else on account until it had been settled. Margot kept promising and then forgetting.

  The sense of excitement grew until the day dawned. Everyone the Willoughbys knew had been invited. Margot’s publishing friends. Hers and Dai’s friends from the old days. People who’d been to or who were still at Larkford. Most of Peasebrook, including the regulars at the White Horse. It was a funny mixture, which shouldn’t work but somehow did, riff-raff mixing with the literary elite, all helped along by the alcohol.

  By seven o’clock the lawns were crowded with colourful characters. There was Miss Havisham and the Artful Dodger; Hobbits and Gandalfs; King Arthur and a gaggle of Bennet sisters, and Sherlock Holmes. One woman had come as Sylvia Plath with a cardboard gas oven around her head, which Margot found witty if a trifle distasteful. One couple had come as Eeyore the donkey, in a pantomime costume, and they walked sombrely around the party with the head down, making people laugh.

  Dai had slung a couple of dead pheasants around his neck.

  ‘Mellors, I suppose?’ said Margot, not very impressed with his efforts.

  ‘He’s more of a man than Gatsby ever was,’ said Dai. He was very pleased with himself.

  All Margot cared about was whether Terence was going to come. He was the only person on the planet who seemed to care about her. He understood her, even if he was tough on her. He’d phoned her several times to see if she was all right. He’d listened to her possible ideas for a new book, and encouraged her. Every time she came off the phone to him she felt galvanised, but then when she went to the typewriter, the enthusiasm had gone.

  She needed him in her life. To keep her on track and guide her and nurture her.

  She knew she was being ridiculous, but she told herself there was nothing wrong with daydreaming. It got her through her waking hours, which seemed endless. It was an antidote to the cocktail of panic, fear, dread and denial that churned up her stomach. The pills helped, but not as much as her fantasy.

  Sally was laying out bowls of trifle she’d made for pudding, although she was pretty sure no one would bother to eat it, when a woman dressed as Scarlett O’Hara sidled up to her.

  ‘It’s Sally, isn’t it?’

  Sally peered at her, puzzled. The woman laughed and she finally recognised her. It was Hilly, the woman from the café she’d met on her first day.

  ‘Hello,’ she said. She was surprised to see her here after what Alexander had told her.

  ‘You’re hanging in there rather well. Three months? That must be a record.’

  The Willoughbys had often talked about how hard they found it to keep staff. Sally laughed.

  ‘Yes. I don’t quite know how I’ve managed it.’

  Hilly moved in closer. Sally could see she was rather drunk, but so was everyone, so it was hardly shocking.

  ‘I managed six but of course it was a secret, so we hardly saw each other at all, really. My husband would have blown his head off.’

  ‘Oh!’ Sally realised she meant something else entirely. ‘But I’m not—’

  ‘He broke my heart, you know.’ Hilly’s brown eyes filled with tears. ‘Like a lot of beautiful people, Alexander can be very cruel without realising.’

  ‘He’s always been very kind to me,’ said Sally, stout in her defence.

  ‘Oh, I know. He’s absolutely charming. But he has a lot of his mother in him.’

  Sally stared after her as she walked off in her green velvet ruffles.

  She must be jealous.

  Only there was nothing to be jealous of.

  When Margot saw Terence, she thought she was going to faint. He was in a white tie and tails, his hair swept back, a coupe of champagne in his hand. How had he known to come as Jay Gatsby? She was certain she hadn’t told him who she was going as. There was something serendipitous about it that thrilled her, and in that moment she realised her feelings for him were even more potent that she’d realised.

  She walked over to him, smiling.

  ‘How long have you been here? You should have come to find me. Are you being looked after?’

  ‘We are,’ he said, and he turned to hold his hand out to a figure who was approaching with two bowls of strawberries and cream.

  It was another Daisy Buchanan. A slight figure in a silver dress and a sequined cap, her mouth a dark red bow. She looked enchanting. She made Margot feel bovine. And old. Terribly old. The girl couldn’t be more than twenty-five or twenty-six.

  ‘Ohhh,’ she said as she approached Margot. ‘I couldn’t believe it when Terence said you were a friend of his. I am such a fan of your work. I used to read your books on the bus every day on the way into work. They are heaven! And thank you so much for inviting us to the party. It’s wonderful.’

  Margot’s eyes were like chips of ice.

  ‘This is my wife, Celia,’ said Terence.

  ‘How funny,’ said Celia, ‘that we’re both Daisy Buchanan. What are the chances of that?’

  Sally quickly forgot about her exchange with Hilly. She was having far too much fun. The Willoughbys paraded her proudly like a mascot and she was introduced to everyone. The sparkling wine cup she and Alexander had concocted and put into huge silver punch bowls made her feel slightly lightheaded but took away any shyness. She danced to the Lucky Charms, and never found herself short of partners.

  There was only one moment that marred the evening, and that was when she slipped upstairs to use the bathroom and check on her make-up. She bumped into Dai coming out of his bedroom. He looked very drunk, and seemed in a dark mood, but when he saw her, his face lit up.

  ‘Sally-Alice,’ he slurred. ‘Sally in Wonderland. You’re an angel. You know that, don’t you?’

  He put his arms around her and went to kiss her. It was a gesture of fondness, she thought, even though he was a bit uncoordinated, so she gave him a kiss back on the cheek and laughed. The scent from the pheasants, strong and gamey, rose up and made her nauseous, so she pushed him away. The gesture seemed to alert him to his behaviour. He put his hands up.

  ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean . . . Sorry . . .’

  She didn’t know what to say. Dai looked mortified. It was a bit embarrassing. She was a bit tipsy herself. It would all be forgotten tomorrow, she decided. She’d forget it, anyway. There was no point in making a fuss.

  Then she looked towards the stairs and saw Margot at the top, her hand on the bannister. She gave S
ally such a knowing glance, as if to say she knew exactly what she was up to. Sally thought if she said anything it would only make things worse, so she turned and walked away towards the bathroom. She had done nothing wrong.

  Margot cornered Terence by the swimming pool. No one had braved the water yet but if previous years were anything to go by, it would eventually be heaving. She had seen Celia on the dance floor, so she took her chance.

  ‘You didn’t tell me you were married.’

  ‘I didn’t know you didn’t know.’

  ‘She’s young enough to be your daughter.’

  He shook his head. ‘I’m younger than I look and Celia’s older than she looks. There’s only seven years between us. That hardly makes me Humbert Humbert.’

  ‘Sorry. I just . . .’

  She realised she was about to cry. She’d had too many glasses of champagne. Every day she wanted to cry. The pills stopped her wanting to. But the drink brought back the desire. She shouldn’t mix them.

  ‘I think I’m in love with you,’ she said, and Terence laughed.

  She slapped him very hard, just once, around the face.

  ‘What was that for?’ He looked shocked.

  ‘For not telling me.’

  ‘What difference would it have made? You’re married. We’re both spoken for.’

  ‘You made a fool of me.’

  ‘Margot, I think you’re making a perfectly good job of making a fool of yourself.’

  ‘You’ve been phoning me. Why would you phone me if you weren’t interested?’

  He looked exasperated.

  ‘If you must know, Niggle asked me to make sure you were all right. He’s very worried about you.’

  Margot stared at him in disbelief.

  ‘I honestly thought you cared.’

  ‘Margot, of course I care. We all do.’

  She turned and walked away. She couldn’t take one more moment of humiliation.

  *

  Half an hour later, Sally was looking for Annie. She hadn’t seen her for ages. Most of the guests were hardened drinkers but she thought Annie probably hadn’t had as much practice as everyone else, despite her training plan. She’d seen her drink at least three glasses of the wine cup, and it was lethal.

  ‘Have you seen Annie?’ she asked Margot. ‘She’s had quite a lot to drink. I’m worried she might be sick.’

  ‘Oh for Christ’s sake,’ snapped Margot. ‘Can’t you drop the Girl Guide act for just one evening? It doesn’t fool me.’

  Sally decided to square up to her.

  ‘There wasn’t anything going on between me and Dai, if that’s what you’re worried about,’ she told her. ‘Honestly. He was just being friendly.’

  Margot looked at her. Her eyes were glazed, almost blank. ‘What a lovely view of the world you have,’ she said dreamily. ‘I’d give anything to swap places with you, darling Sally.’

  She blew her a kiss and wandered off. She had taken off her shoes and was walking rather unsteadily.

  Sally felt uncomfortable. She couldn’t tell if Margot was being sarcastic or not. A man in a white tie and tails came and spoke in her ear.

  ‘I think she’s had a bit too much to drink.’

  ‘I think everyone has,’ said Sally, knowing she sounded prim.

  She carried on looking for Annie, pushing through the crowds of people. Everyone was looking hot and dishevelled. Quite a few people were off balance and being very loud. It suddenly felt a bit hostile, and she felt panicky.

  ‘Has anyone seen the White Rabbit?’ she went around asking, and everyone laughed, thinking it was a literary reference and not a genuine question.

  Alexander came and grabbed her hand.

  ‘Quick. I need cover. Hilly’s on the warpath. She’s had way too much to drink and her husband’s here.’

  Sally hesitated. If her husband wasn’t here, might he be interested?

  ‘I think I’m the only person who hasn’t danced with you yet tonight,’ he said. ‘You are the belle of the ball.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ laughed Sally, but he pulled her through the crowds of people to the dance floor that had been cleared in the courtyard – the band were playing in the garage with the doors open. They were on top form, covering everyone’s current favourites – ‘I’m a Believer’ and ‘A Whiter Shade of Pale’ and ‘The Beat Goes On’. Sally span and twirled, loving the freedom of forgetting about everything just for a moment.

  Then as the band started to play ‘White Rabbit’ by Jefferson Airplane it reminded her of Annie.

  ‘I think I should go and look for Annie. I haven’t seen her for ages.’

  Alexander looked at her. ‘Stop worrying about everyone else, will you?’ he said. ‘Annie will be fine.’

  Sally shook her head. ‘I’m worried about her.’

  Alexander sighed. ‘Oh, Sally.’ Her heart thumped at the way he said her name. He picked up her hand. ‘Come with me.’

  Alexander led her down the garden, down behind the hedge into the secret spot where they all got changed for swimming because no one could see you in there.

  He turned her and looked into her eyes.

  ‘You have made such a difference to this family,’ he told her. ‘The way you look out for us all. It’s amazing. Everyone’s so much happier. We all love having you here so much.’

  Sally bit her lip. ‘I’m not sure your mother does. She never seems happy.’

  ‘That’s the point of Mum. She thrives on pretending to be unhappy. And I promise you, if she didn’t like you, you wouldn’t still be here.’

  He took her hand so their fingers were interlinked, and she felt his thumb trace patterns on her palm. His touch was so delicate but it reached right inside her and turned her upside down.

  ‘Phoebe and Annie adore you like a sister. Dad is a new man. And I . . .’

  He pulled her in so their foreheads were almost touching.

  His hair was tangled up in hers. She could barely breathe and her heart skittered.

  ‘What?’ she whispered.

  ‘Shhh,’ was all he said in reply.

  She felt his mouth on hers. It was soft and sweet. He began to kiss her, tiny kisses that made her melt.

  Then she froze. The memory of Hilly’s warning was still fresh. Alexander can be cruel. And Margot’s words, when she arrived. Annie says he can break three hearts before breakfast.

  She didn’t want to be one of those women, like Hilly or Diana. She wasn’t going to ruin her new life by getting involved with him. He would break her heart and she would lose her job. She imagined going back to Knapford after a taste of this exciting new world she’d been shown.

  She wasn’t going to risk leaving Hunter’s Moon for anything. Not even Alexander.

  ‘No!’ She pulled away from him. ‘This is all wrong.’

  He took her head in his hands and turned her to face him. His expression was beseeching; his eyes dark with sincerity. ‘No it’s not.’ He was stroking her hair and she could feel each strand ripple over her scalp.

  ‘Please,’ she said, in the most no-nonsense tone she could muster. ‘Stop it now, before it goes too far.’

  He pulled her in tight. ‘But I need to tell you something.’

  She could feel his heart beating. It was in time with hers. So fast, she thought. Their hearts were beating so fast.

  Suddenly, a scream pierced through the night air.

  ‘It’s Mum!’ screamed Annie. ‘Mum’s fallen in the pool. I can’t get her out.’

  Sally had never seen a man move as fast as Dai. He ran down across the lawns, pushing people out of the way, and jumped into the pool. Margot was at the deep end, her body limp and lifeless. He grabbed her, pulled her head out of the water. He was tall enough to stand up, and he heaved her over his shoulder, wading through the water, then passing her over to the outstretched hands of people on the side.

  They lifted her out and laid her out. Annie was standing over her, sobbing uncontrollably. Dai was struggling to c
limb out of the pool with his wet clothes.

  A man in a white suit stepped forward, pushing everyone out of the way. He bent over Margot and began to press her chest, pushing at it firmly, then sealed his mouth over hers to breathe into her.

  Sally put her hands to her head. How could this have happened? She remembered her words that day by the pool – ‘you’ll drown’. Had it been a portent?

  Oh God. Time was passing so slowly. Everyone had fallen silent. There was no noise except the sound of Annie sobbing.

  Then suddenly Margot spluttered and sat up. She looked around, bewildered.

  ‘What happened?’ she said. ‘I just thought I’d go for a little swim.’

  32

  A week before the contracts were due to be exchanged on Hunter’s Moon, Cathy ushered a woman into Belinda’s office. She was in a white silk dress, her hair in a long plait over one shoulder.

  Belinda stood up with a welcoming smile.

  ‘It’s Natasha, isn’t it?’

  Natasha edged into the room and sat down in the chair opposite Belinda. She looked at her, her eyes wide. She had an air of serenity about her, but also one of vulnerability.

  ‘Congratulations on Hunter’s Moon,’ said Belinda. ‘I’m sure what you’re going to do with it will be amazing.’

  ‘I need you to tell me what happened between you and Charlie,’ said Natasha. ‘I know something happened. I could see the tension between you at the open house. Your face when you saw him. You were so shocked. He refused to tell me what went on between you. But I think something happened and I need to know.’

  She tightened her fists, leaning forwards, beseeching.

  ‘I’m about to make the biggest commitment of my life,’ she went on. ‘This retreat is a dream come true for me. It’s about everything I believe in. And if Charlie and I are going to make a success of it, I have to believe in him.’

  ‘Of course.’ Belinda was thinking fast.

  ‘But I’m not sure I trust him. I know he’s had problems. That’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’ve had problems myself. That’s how we met. But I can’t put up with lies. I won’t be lied to.’ She sighed. ‘He’s been drinking again. We both know that’s something that could happen to either of us. But he’s lying about it. He forgets that I know all the tricks.’ She managed a self-deprecating laugh.