After the Honeymoon (47 page)

The nurse gave a sympathetic grimace. ‘I know catheters aren’t very pleasant, but a lot of people put up with them. There are worse things—’

‘It’s not that,’ broke in Rosie. ‘It’s the heart trouble. And the cancer of the liver.’

The nurse frowned. ‘I don’t know anything about that.’ Putting down her case, she drew out a folder. ‘I’m not really meant to say – patient confidentiality and all that – but as you’re his daughter, I think it’s all right. No, there’s nothing here.’

This didn’t make sense. ‘Not cancer of the prostate either?’

‘No.’

‘And the catheter …?’

The nurse gave another smile. ‘It’s not always easy for old people to get to the loo in time. Especially when they live on their own. If you ask me, dear, that’s what he’s really got wrong with him.’ She patted Rosie on the arm. ‘Loneliness. When did you say you were going back to Greece, then?’

‘Your dad kept the letters for all those years?’ exclaimed Gemma when she rang that night. ‘Have you told Winston yet?’

‘No. I’m still not sure that I will.’ Rosie was lying on the bed in the spare room that used to be Gemma’s. It didn’t seem like sixteen years since they had both been sitting on it, playing teenage records and talking about boyfriends. Downstairs, Sally was cooking supper. She was too old to be living in bedsit land. But what else could she do at the moment?

‘And you can’t go too hard on your dad because he’s ill, like Mum said. She wrote to you, didn’t she?’

Rosie had already discussed this with Sally after coming in. ‘That’s because Dad told her. She thinks it was to get me back. He’s lonely.’

‘Poor man.’ Gemma was always able to see the other side. ‘Poor you, too.’

Rosie swung her legs over the bed and went towards the window overlooking the harbour where she and Winston had spent their last evening together. ‘It’s Jack I feel sorry for.’

‘Don’t,’ said Gemma decisively. ‘He’s had a great childhood and he’s grown up to be a very well-balanced boy. By the way, you’ve heard the gossip about Winston and Melissa, have you? She’s gone back to her first husband.’

So it was definite. Rosie had thought that they might have made up. Now she felt a little thrill that this wasn’t the case.

‘I heard Marvyn’s a real heel,’ continued Gemma excitedly. ‘No one likes him, although I shouldn’t say that. Mind you, someone told me that he decided to get her back because he was jealous when she married Winston. And she agreed because she felt the children needed to be with their real father. Reading between the lines, I don’t think your Winston was as understanding as he could have been when it came to the children.’

Immediately, Rosie felt defensive. ‘He’s not
my
Winston and actually he’s very good with children. We’re all meeting up in London this weekend to go round some museums.’

‘Ah. That’s lovely. Actually, I was thinking. Got anything planned for Christmas? Mum and Dad are coming up and we wondered if you’d like to join them. Bring your dad, if you like – and maybe Winston.’

It would be better than just the four of them. A noisy family crowd with Gemma’s lot might hide any nasty comments from her father. ‘I don’t know if Dad’s up to the journey,’ Rosie began. ‘He might not have heart trouble or cancer but he’s quite frail.’

‘My parents can give you a lift. Dad’s just bought a huge people carrier. Says it’s for his new hobby (did I tell you he’s into fossils now?) but Mum says it’s for the grandchildren. Go on, Rosie. Think about it. It would be so nice to spend Christmas with you just before you go home.’

They had a great day. Rosie was right. The sheer numbers round the festive table – goodness knows how they all squeezed in – made it difficult for Dad to be his usual sarky self. Instead, he managed to pull a cracker
and
make some reasonable conversation with Winston, about what it was like to be on telly. He also spoke to his grandson, who was on his right. (‘Tell me what they teach you at your new school, lad. Bit different from Greece, I’ll wager.’)

‘Jack’s going back to his old school next week,’ said Rosie, giving her son a warm
it’s all right
smile. ‘But he’ll write, won’t you, Jack?’

Her son nodded uncertainly before shooting Winston a glance. Rosie felt a tremor of unease. Jack was going to miss his father. ‘You’ll have to visit us, all of you!’ She looked around the table, taking care to include Winston. Since Greco had left, they’d had some lovely outings together, taking in the London sights. Often they’d been mistaken for a family. If it wasn’t for the fact that she and Jack spent the nights in the spare room, she might think they were one.

‘Visit you?’ repeated her father. ‘Reckon my travelling days are over. ’Sides, my days are numbered, aren’t they?’

Rosie had decided not to tell her dad what the nurse had told her. It would make him feel stupid; she knew that. Better to play along with it until the time was right. ‘Then we’ll come back next year to see you,’ she added. ‘When the holiday season is over for us.’

‘Mum, he’s kicking me!’ protested one of Gemma’s small boys.

‘No, I’m not! It’s him!’

The toddler started to cry just as the doorbell went. ‘It’s Shirley,’ said Gemma, leaping up. ‘She used to help me with the boys when they were really small, and between you and me, she’s been having a bit of a tough time, so I suggested she came round for a piece of Christmas cake after lunch. She was a bit worried about spending too much time with her own family. Funny that it was her daughter, Emma, who went to your villa, Rosie. Small world, isn’t it? You must know her too, Winston.’

‘The blonde bride,’ he muttered, sending Rosie a conspiratorial look. She gave him a sympathetic smile. It couldn’t be easy for him here, amidst so many unfamiliar faces.

‘Hello everyone!’ Shirley, wearing a rather short red skirt, beamed at them all. She looked flushed and stank of whisky. ‘Sorry I’m a bit late, but I was having a nap after my own dinner. I’ve got to say, it’s a relief to be away from my lot. It’s a nightmare with my daughter and her husband at the moment.’

Winston found himself unable to warm to this woman. He leaped up. ‘Please, take my seat. I was about to make my excuses anyway. I need to visit my … to visit someone anyway.’

Melissa? Who else could it be? Rosie felt irrationally disappointed that he hadn’t told her. ‘Thank you so much for a delicious lunch.’ He kissed Gemma on both cheeks, which made her friend flush. ‘You must bring the boys up to London sometime.’

Jack cut in. ‘It’s really cool, and Dad’s got this great place, right next to a skate park.’

Dad!
It gave her a pang to hear him use the word. Winston was looking at her now. ‘May I have a quick word?’

Blushing, she hurried out into the hall, closing the door behind them just as she heard Dad say, ‘So where do
you
live then, Shirley?’

‘Look.’ Winston was taking both her hands and looking straight down at her. Every bone in her body was on fire. She felt weak, just as she had done as a teenager.

‘I’ve got something to tell you.’

‘I’ve got something to tell you too.’ She couldn’t hold it back. She hadn’t been planning on telling him, not wishing to make him feel awkward, but now, after a couple of glasses of wine and the intimacy of sharing Christmas lunch with her son, she couldn’t hold it back. ‘Dad kept your letters.’

He frowned. ‘What letters?’

‘The ones you sent me after you left. He didn’t give them to me, but I found them. You were telling me the truth, Winston. You did write to me. I’m so sorry I doubted you.’

His eyes misted. ‘I’m glad you finally know the truth.’

Rosie gulped. He was nearly crying. This meant as much to him as it did to her. They were standing so close now that they were almost sharing the same breath. ‘Do you ever,’ he said quietly, ‘wonder what might have happened if we’d each received the other’s letters?’

She nodded, unable to speak.

Then he put both his hands on her shoulders, making her body pulse. ‘It’s not too late, Rosie. There’s still something between us. I can feel it. Don’t go back to Greece. We could start again – here – with our son.’ His words tumbled out, not allowing her to cut in. ‘Please, Rosie. Think about it. That’s all I ask.’

‘Wait,’ she said urgently. ‘What was the thing you were going to tell me?’

He gave her a warm, melting look. ‘We’ve already said it. I love you, Rosie. I loved you before and now I love you again.’

He moved even closer. There was a surge of warmth as their lips met briefly, throwing her back to that very first time at the youth club disco.

And then he was gone, striding down the path towards his sleek car, leaving her dazed and confused. Her mobile vibrated.

Greco.

Feeling dreadful, she let it click into answerphone. Was it possible, she asked herself, to love two men at the same time?

‘Six months after our honeymoon my mother-in-law still calls me by my predecessor’s name.’

Karen, just about married

WINSTON

Christmas had never been a big deal for Winston. At school and university he had often stayed with a friend’s family (his grandmother had declared the holiday ‘too short’ for him to come back to the West Indies). Later, in the Royal Marines, he had always volunteered to remain on duty; frankly it was a relief to forget that he didn’t have a family like everyone else. Until he’d met Nick, of course.

‘When we’re home,’ she used to say fondly, nuzzling his neck, ‘we’ll have to visit my mum and sister, but after that, we could have time on our own.’

Time that they’d never had.

But now life was looking up – even though he hadn’t, to be honest,
meant
to say that he loved Rosie. The words had just come out of his mouth and then it had been too late to take them back. Truth be told, he was feeling confused. Was his declared love for Rosie part of a misguided, nostalgic desire to find a part of his life that had been good? Or was Rosie really the one?

Maybe. Still, he
had
meant it when he’d said that it would be nice to be a proper family like Gemma and Joe’s. He’d enjoyed lunch at their place. Those two really loved each other, even though it was crazy with all those kids.

It had been great, too, really great, to spend some time with his son. His
son
! Those words still gave him a thrill. Indeed, he found himself using them with pride to complete strangers. ‘I’m buying this for my boy,’ he’d enthused to the bored shop assistant when he’d purchased an expensive, garish sweatshirt as part of Jack’s Christmas present, hoping it was the kind of thing that sixteen-year-olds wore.

Luckily, it was. ‘Cool, Dad,’ Jack had enthused.

‘There’s another under the tree,’ he’d added. ‘It’s rather breakable.’ He swallowed back the emotion in his throat. ‘Leave it until after I’ve gone.’

His father would have approved of the gift, Winston told himself, as he thanked Gemma and Joe for their hospitality and made arrangements to meet up with Jack the following day.

This, together with Rosie’s kiss (she’d definitely reciprocated!), had almost made him forget that there were still some more loose ends in his life that needed tying up.

‘I need to visit someone,’ he had told Rosie.

What he hadn’t added was that the person in question wasn’t expecting him.

Is this really the right thing to do? Winston asked himself, drawing up outside his wife’s house. Everything looked exactly the same, he noticed. Someone else must have clipped the yew hedge just as he used to. It was as though he’d never left.

The speech that he’d prepared during the last few weeks now seemed stupid as he knocked on the door. Maybe it would be best if he just turned round and left …

‘Winston!’ The boy’s face at the door broke into a grin. ‘Hi! Mum’s inside.’ A worried look passed across his face. ‘With Dad.’

So Marvyn was here! Then again, what had he expected? That daydream where the bastard had gone off again with someone else, leaving Melissa to realise that she’d loved Winston all along, now evaporated as Freddie led him into the sitting room.

There they were – Melissa sitting upright on the sofa, looking beautiful. She was holding a flute of champagne and wearing a silver necklace that he’d never seen before around her elegant throat. Marvyn was standing beside her in a navy jacket and beige trousers (the standard uniform around here), glaring at him.

‘What do you want?’

‘Marvyn.’ Melissa placed a hand on her first husband’s arm. ‘That’s rude.’

Marvyn was virtually snarling, reminding Winston of a sniffer dog they’d had once that had turned nasty. ‘How dare you intrude on a family day!’

Winston resisted the temptation to say that legally he still
was
family, even though Melissa had filed for divorce. ‘I was just passing so I brought round some presents.’

Alice, who’d been sitting with her back to him, texting furiously, now looked up. ‘You can put them under the tree,’ she announced coolly, as though he were a lowly Victorian manservant.

Winston braced himself. There was so much he could say. So much he could ask. Such as, how could Melissa have played around behind his back – and with her ex-husband at that? But now, as he placed the presents at the foot of the enormous Christmas tree decorated with blue and white lights with matching bows, the truth finally dawned.

He’d been used. Melissa hadn’t really loved him; she’d accepted him on the rebound. In reality, she was still in love with this awful man. If it hadn’t been for him, Winston, Marvyn might still have been with his mistress. There was nothing like a bit of jealousy to make someone change their mind.

‘Well, it was nice to see you, but I must go now,’ he announced as if they had invited him to stay.

Melissa’s beautiful dark eyes were on him, her expression unreadable. ‘Good idea,’ snapped Marvyn. Alice didn’t even bother looking up from her phone which, judging from the packaging around her, was brand new. She’d already got through two during the time he’d been with her mother.

‘Can you stay for a kick-around?’ asked Freddie hopefully. ‘Only Dad can’t—’