She didn’t look anything much. Nondescript was the word that sprang to mind. She’d been pretty as a girl, had kept herself nice for Tom as she grew older. Lately, it hadn’t seemed to matter what she wore as long as she was neat and tidy. Maybe she’d go out and buy some new clothes, get a different hair style? Yes, why not?
And maybe after that she’d do something that would surprise everyone.
She kept thinking of the relatives she had in England – well, she might have – and wondering if she dared go and visit them. Would they turn her away as they had her father’s letters?
She’d never been overseas, but it wasn’t hard to get to England by plane. People did it all the time. She rather fancied the idea of shocking her daughters rigid by climbing out of her rut.
Lexie had been right. Gina had to move on. And as a first step, she was going to get a more modern haircut and buy a few new clothes.
* * *
Brad was surprised by the farewell party. It wasn’t just drinks after work, but a proper ‘do’ at Judy’s place with enough food to feed a starving army. Rodney wasn’t there, but a lot of people whom Brad had known and liked during his long years in the public service were. Some of them had already retired. Some were younger and envious of his new freedom.
He spent a thoroughly enjoyable evening, and when Judy pulled him towards her in a dark corner of the patio and gave him a passionate goodbye kiss, he found himself responding, returning it, holding her close… tempted.
She pulled away a little, still keeping hold of him. ‘Want to go to the theatre next week? A friend can’t make it and I have a spare ticket.’
He stared at her, looked up at a star twinkling down on them, then blurted out, ‘It’s the wrong time to start anything up between us, Judy. I’m leaving for England in a few weeks’ time.’
She was silent for so long he wondered if he’d upset her.
‘That wouldn’t have mattered if—’ She reached up to caress his cheek. ‘It’s all right, Brad. The spark isn’t there for you, is it?’
‘You’re a very attractive women.’
She shrugged and took a step backwards. ‘No need to sugar the pill.’
‘I’m telling it as I see it. You are attractive, but at the moment I’m rather preoccupied about a private crisis you don’t know about.’
She patted his arm, summoned up an unconvincing smile and walked away.
He stood by himself for a moment or two, then went to join the others.
By the end of the evening he was tiddly and for once, he didn’t care. It was good to say your farewells properly, he thought, leaning back in the taxi and letting the street lights flow past like a string of gold-haloed beads. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d let himself go like this. He wasn’t really a drinker. An occasional beer or wine and that was it. But you only retired once and even if he didn’t retire officially until next year, as far as he was concerned, now was the moment of severance.
‘Freedom,’ he murmured, raising an imaginary glass in a heartfelt toast. ‘You can’t beat it.’
When he entered his own house, however, his euphoria vanished abruptly. The big hallway seemed to echo round him. The rooms Helen had once loved and been so proud of seemed soulless now with their neatly aligned furniture. When Helen was alive, this place had been a home, and a beautiful one at that, because she had a knack when it came to home-making and decorating. Now, it was just a piece of real estate, quite valuable because it was in an inner suburb that had zoomed up in value. He wouldn’t be at all sorry to let the house go, would probably buy himself a luxury flat instead.
He slept badly. Increasingly his body was proclaiming its dissatisfaction with the celibate life, and the feel of Judy’s soft body against his had stirred it up again. You’d think desire would be fading at his age, but it seemed to be making a come-back lately.
Judy was right, though. The spark wasn’t there with her.
Perhaps he would never find another woman he felt comfortable with. He certainly wasn’t going out hunting for one. The mere thought of that made him shudder.
* * *
Gina decided her father’s house was now ready to bring in the charity people she’d contacted to take the clutter of things away. She supposed she could have had a garage sale and made a little extra money but couldn’t be bothered. She had other things on her mind since finding those papers.
There were a couple more car loads to take home for herself, things she couldn’t bear to part with – though where she was going to put them, heaven alone knew. And then she would bring in a few estate agents to give her some preliminary valuations.
She glanced inside the letter box, though since she’d put on a sticker saying ‘No junk mail’ it had mostly been empty. Today, however, there was an airmail letter postmarked England, quite a thick one, too. The return address said simply Jones & Black, with a PO box in Blackpool. She hurried inside, clutching it tightly. Blackpool! That was where her father’s English family came from.
In the kitchen she sat down, staring at the letter, suddenly reluctant to open it and let out more secrets. ‘Don’t be silly!’ she muttered and tore open the envelope to find several sheets of paper. The printed header on the covering letter said ‘Jones & Black, Private Investigators’. She blinked at it in shock. What was her father doing with a private investigator?
Dear Mr Everett,
I’m writing to advise you that I now have all the information you requested. I’ve attached details of the family members in whom you’re interested and have added a couple of other names to the rough family tree you sent me.
I shall be happy to help you further in any way, should you require it.
I’ve enclosed my final invoice, payable within 30 days as usual.
Kind regards,
Allyn Jones
Gina heard the kettle bubble violently, then click and switch itself off, but didn’t bother to make a mug of tea. She re-read the letter then spread out the next piece of paper, swallowing hard at the sight of a family tree… her family tree.
As she studied it, she pressed one hand against her lips to hold back a sob. It wasn’t fair! She ran her finger over the names of the generation below her father’s on the family tree. Peggy and Jake were indeed her half-brother and sister! They were older than her but please, whatever fate was guiding her life, let them still be alive! ‘Margaret Wilkes and Jacob Everett.’ She murmured their full names like a mantra. If she met no one else from the English side of her family, she had to meet these two.
Then she remembered that the letter had contained other papers and spread them out. Each gave the address of one person and a few precious details. Margaret née Everett, known as Peggy, mother of one daughter (Cheryl), housewife, married to Hartley Wilkes, manager of an insurance office. He must be close to retirement. Peggy would be sixty-six now, fifteen years older than Gina. What was her sister like? Her sister!
And Jake, her brother, was divorced, had taken early retirement a few years ago, was the father of a daughter and had a granddaughter of twenty. He was sixty-five. Did he look like her father? she wondered. Their father.
She had two nieces and a great-niece in England, as well as the brother and sister, and she didn’t even know what they looked like. It was too much. The years of suppressed longing burst out of her in a bout of sobbing and crying that exhausted her.
When she’d calmed down, she stayed where she was, head resting on her hands on the table.
Lexie had said she should get out of her rut. Well, she would. She was definitely going to go to England and meet her relatives. She’d write to them first and… A dreadful thought suddenly occurred to her. What if her father done something so terrible that they refused even to see her? They’d returned his letters unopened, with ‘not wanted at this address’ on them, instead of the usual, ‘not known’.
She couldn’t ask him about it now, but at a guess he’d probably left his first wife and run away with Gina’s mother. Wh
at else could have caused this sort of reaction?
Well, she wasn’t going to let her brother and sister turn her away, whatever it took. She’d not write because they might send back her letter unopened. She’d just turn up and tell them who she was. At least that way she’d see them.
She wondered if there were any other members of the family. The letter said ‘family members in whom you’re interested’. There might be others, more distant relatives.
The world suddenly seemed brighter. It was a while since she’d had a purpose in life, but she had one now! She’d get some brochures today and start making travel plans before she told Mel and Lexie about any of this. They wouldn’t like her going on her own, they were so protective of her.
But this was something she had to do.
* * *
Brad decided the time had come to tell his two grown-up children what he was doing. He felt guilty that he’d not even told them about retiring early, but he’d not wanted them to interfere. He invited them round for tea – without their spouses and children, for once. ‘I’ve something important to tell you,’ he’d said and refused to explain further on the phone.
They came after work, Michael still wearing his business suit and Joanna wearing the female equivalent, looking immaculate, as she always did.
Brad settled them down with a glass of wine each. ‘I’ve taken early retirement.’
Joanna stared at him. ‘How can you retire at fifty-four? I hope you haven’t done anything foolish, Dad.’
Brad wondered when they’d started considering him too stupid to make his own decisions. ‘I’m also selling this house. It’s far too big for one person. Can you sell it for me, Michael?’ There had to be some advantages to having a son in real estate.
‘Yes, of course. It’ll go quickly in the present boom. Where are you going to buy?’
‘A luxury flat in an inner suburb, though I won’t be here to live in it for very long.’
Dead silence as they exchanged worried glances.
‘You’re not – ill?’ Joanna faltered at last.
‘No, of course not. Oh, darling!’ He pulled her to her feet and hugged her. ‘No, I’ve not felt as well for a long time. Truly. It’s just that I’m going travelling. You know I’ve always wanted to, but your mother didn’t enjoy it.’ He waited until his daughter had sat down again, by which time Michael had more questions.
‘Where are you going?’
‘To the UK first, then who knows?’
‘You’re just taking off round the world – with no plans? Are you sure that’s wise, Dad?’
‘I’m sure it’s what I want to do. I fancy having a few adventures before I’m too old. And there’s something else I need to tell you.’
They looked at him warily then stared in shock as he told them about Rosie.
‘You mean – you were unfaithful to Mum?’ Joanna exclaimed. ‘Dad, how could you?’
‘Helen and I weren’t getting on very well at the time and Jane was very attractive. It just sort of happened. I’d had to turn down a good job in the eastern states because your mother refused point-blank to move and I was very upset about that.’
‘I didn’t know,’ Joanna said. ‘Why wouldn’t she move?’
‘She didn’t want to leave her friends or her house.’
‘It doesn’t excuse what you did.’ She turned to her brother. ‘Why haven’t you said anything? Surely you don’t condone what Dad did?’
Michael shrugged. ‘It happens.’
‘You men always stick together.’ She turned back to her father. ‘Did Mum know about this woman?’
‘I don’t think so. She was too bound up in motherhood and domesticity to notice what I was doing – or what I needed, either. I’m not making excuses, but our marriage wasn’t perfect, then or at any time. I stayed with Helen mostly for you two. You were – and are – very important to me. But don’t mistake me, she and I rubbed along pretty well. It wasn’t a bad marriage, just… not a wonderful one.’
‘So you’re going to England to meet this Rosie,’ Michael said.
‘I was going anyway. I’m just changing the order of what I do there. Meeting her now has a higher priority than catching up with my cousins.’
The minute the sound of their cars had faded, Brad poured himself another glass of wine and wandered out into the garden. Heat met him like a wall, even though it was six thirty in the evening. He took a sip and rolled the Chardonnay round his mouth, enjoying its woody taste, then sighed and got out the hose pipe. He’d need to keep the garden looking good if he was to sell the house quickly – and he’d need to remove a lot of the furniture from inside the house, to show off how spacious it was. Helen had been a hoarder. He felt the need now to divest himself of all that baggage, to tread more lightly through life.
He was going to go travelling this time, he really was. And it felt right, too. That inner sense of his wasn’t sounding any alarm bells.
CHAPTER 5
England
Ignoring Hartley’s prohibition, Peggy nerved herself to visit the Women’s Wellness Centre. She parked her car and got out, but couldn’t bring herself to walk inside so stood by the car, looking at the angular modern building with its huge expanses of glass.
‘They don’t bite, you know,’ a cheerful voice said behind her.
She swung round, her heart pounding because she’d been so lost in her thoughts she hadn’t seen anyone approach.
The other woman smiled at her. ‘Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you jump. It’s just that I felt like that the first time I came here. Took me three visits before I walked through that door. How about I take you inside and give you the grand tour? You can just walk out again afterwards with a handful of brochures, if you like. People do it all the time.’
‘Well – er – yes, why not?’
The receptionist called a greeting to Peggy’s companion then went back to her computer.
The tour didn’t take long. ‘There are various consulting rooms to the right. The doctors here really understand what it’s like to have a woman’s body, not a man’s. Can’t tell you the difference it’s made to me. And there are counsellors too, if you need them.’
She didn’t wait for a reply but turned to the left and pointed to doors which led to a series of small meeting rooms. Then she allowed Peggy a quick glimpse through a glass panel in the door of a much larger room at the rear, where a meditation class was taking place.
The women’s faces looked so serene Peggy felt a surge of bitter jealousy. ‘How much does it cost? That sort of thing, I mean. Meditation.’
‘Whatever you can afford to pay. Most of us give a couple of pounds. There are some who can’t afford even that. No one bothers.’
‘I’ve always wanted to learn to meditate.’
‘There you are. Why don’t you sign up for the next beginners’ class?’
‘My husband is – well, he doesn’t believe in that sort of thing. I don’t want to upset him just now.’
The other woman glanced quickly sideways. ‘Oh? Well, if he’s giving you grief physically, there’s help for that sort of thing, too.’
Peggy shook her head. ‘He’s never touched me, he’s just… sarcastic. So I don’t—’ She couldn’t continue, stared down at her feet. Her companion’s silence felt warm and friendly, not like Hartley’s disapproving silences. ‘I shouldn’t let it get to me,’ she confessed. ‘I’m probably over-reacting.’
‘Maybe. But if it’s upsetting you, why should you put up with it? Mine used to bash me, but I’ve left him now. Haven’t been so happy in years.’
Peggy was afraid of revealing more about her life, didn’t want to go down that path, so glanced at her watch. ‘Oh, dear! Look how late it is. I’d better be going. Thank you so much for the tour.’
They walked back to the entrance.
‘Want some brochures?’
‘No, better not.’ She knew if Hartley saw them he’d go mad.
‘Here. Let me give you my pho
ne number. If you want to meet for a coffee some time…’
Peggy backed away quickly. ‘It’s very kind of you, but I’m rather busy, shouldn’t really have come here.’ She was relieved when the other didn’t follow her or make any protest. As she drove out of the car park, she avoided even looking towards the entrance.
But she thought about the centre quite a lot. It had felt so friendly and welcoming. Perhaps if she… No, she irritated Hartley enough as it was. He’d be furious if he knew she’d come here and he’d mock the very idea of meditation classes.
It simply just wasn’t worth it.
But what was worth doing these days?
* * *
In England Jake Everett whistled as he dug over part of his vegetable garden, ready for a new planting. When he heard a car draw up, he ambled round the house, through the side gate he was always forgetting to close. His daughter Mary and granddaughter Lou got out of the car.
‘Now this is a pleasant surprise!’ He blinked at the colours of Lou’s hair – a right mess it looked with those jagged ends, not to mention the paler streaks standing out against the dark brown! But remembering his own long-haired days in the sixties and his parents using exactly those words about his chosen hair style, he bit his tongue.
Then he noticed the expressions on their faces, the way they were avoiding looking at one another and his heart sank. Another quarrel. There had been huge quarrels last year when Lou refused to go to university and took a catering and waitressing course instead, then found herself a job in a café. ‘Something wrong?’
‘I’ve brought Louise round to see if you can talk a bit of sense into her, Dad.’
Lou glared at her mother. ‘You’re just being stupid about it.’
‘Stupid! My only daughter wants to go backpacking round the world with some fellow we know nothing about, instead of doing the advanced catering course that a hundred other girls – sensible girls! – would give their eye teeth to get a place on. I mean, if you must do catering, then you should do it properly, get well qualified and—’
Family Connections Page 4
