Move Over Darling (25 page)

Alys put her hands on her hips. ‘Now I’m the one doubting my mothering skills.’ She glared at Kitty. ‘Because I swear I brought you up to have some manners. You might have the courtesy to hear what else Adam has to say.’

Kitty’s head was pounding and all she wanted to do was get home and sit down, if Jamie would let her. She shrugged and Alys nodded. ‘You know where I am if you need me, Kitty. Nothing’s changed.’

But it had, thought Kitty, as her mother walked away.

‘Wait there,’ said Adam, unfolding a garden chair for her before disappearing, only to returning a few minutes later with a bottle of ice cold mineral water. Kitty opened it and took a deep drink and began to feel guilty about her outburst.

Adam watched her for a while and when he spoke his voice was tight with emotion. ‘I know when I’m not wanted,’ he said sadly. ‘I can see you’ve only been putting up with having me around for the little guy’s sake, and I appreciate it, but I think it’s time I got out of your hair now before our relationship deteriorates any further.

‘I’ve also been doing some thinking about what you said about work. I know I’ll never be the kind of high-powered bloke you’ll probably end up with, but I’m going to do what I can to make things easier for you. I’ve managed to get some milking work in addition to working here. I really hate the thought of not seeing the little guy in the mornings, but I guess you’d prefer the extra money to having me around.’

‘But what about,’ she swallowed hard, ‘Jamie? When will he see you?’

‘I’m sure you’ll come up with a practical solution,’ he said, looking utterly miserable. ‘You’re the big ideas woman, aren’t you?’

Fat buds of shocking-pink rhododendrons were swelling in the late May sunshine, clashing gloriously with deep purple cornets of lilac blossom swaying in the fresh breeze. Coralie saw everything with a new appreciation and a sense that, like one of Alys’s perennials once the brown leaves of the previous year’s growth had been cleared away, she was about to bloom again.

‘Whatever you did, you’re looking much better for it,’ Alys said, putting down the wheelbarrow she was pushing and eyeing Coralie’s fifties’ print skirt with the cropped summer jacket approvingly. ‘I couldn’t bear you in all that tailored stuff.’

The remnants of her office wardrobe were the right size, but, as she’d come to realise, they no longer fitted the person she’d become. Coralie looked down at herself with a rueful smile. ‘I thought I was leaving the past behind, but now I really have.’

Before she could go any further, Willow and Wilfie scurried past, giggling, supposedly to open Willow’s jewellery shop, but as soon as they were inside, the door was locked again and the blinds stayed closed.

‘I think Wilfie’s found true love,’ Alys said as they edged away by mutual consent. ‘But I do hope he doesn’t start writing any sonnets about it.’

‘He’s found something,’ Coralie snorted. ‘I bet Rhys is relieved.’

‘Well, not anymore he isn’t, but Wilfie is,’ said Alys, naughtily. ‘You know, Willow’s giving up her shop.’

‘I did see a tall blond guy looking at Willow’s unit recently. I wasn’t sure if he was looking at jewellery or had come for a massage.’

Alys pulled a face. ‘That’s Willow’s brother, Ash. He’s going to keep the jewellery business going and Willow and Wilfie are taking over the café. They’re planning to keep it going all year round, by supplementing the loss of income in the winter with creative writing and yoga classes.’

‘Really?’ Coralie felt her eyebrows lift.

‘I must say, I was a bit sceptical about it, but Wilfie did hospitality and catering at college and they’re both taking their food hygiene qualifications. Probably in there swotting for it now.’ She winked at Coralie. ‘Truly, I was surprised by Wilfie’s chocolate brownies. They’re lush, very moist and chewy – you should try one. I don’t know if he’s got a secret ingredient or a particularly deft touch.’

Their eyes met and they both giggled.

‘Come here, you,’ she said, pulling Coralie to her and hugging her. As she let her go she rested her hands lightly on Coralie’s shoulders, her face serious. ‘Gethin rang.’

Coralie closed her eyes whilst the ground steadied itself again. ‘About the sale of the painting, I suppose. How are things looking for the gala auction?’

Alys looked at her in exasperation. ‘I don’t care if I never hear those words again! I’ve wasted too much time on this whole hall renovation stuff already. Displacement activity, I think they call it, trying to paper over the cracks in my own life, pretending that I was a better person than I was because I was working for the good of the community. Ha!’ She shook her head. ‘I only got involved because it was easier than facing up to the problems at home. I neglected Huw and was such a terrible mother that my own daughter couldn’t even come to me with her problems.’

Coralie made a small noise of protest, but Alys hadn’t finished. ‘Don’t you think it’s about time you put Gethin out of his misery?’

‘What about my misery? He’s the one who wouldn’t listen to me! The one who stormed off before I could explain,’ Coralie said, her voice thick with suppressed emotion.

Alys sighed heavily. ‘Coralie, that boy had a dog’s life growing up, his mother was twelve years younger than his father and was always in awe of him. She was never quite strong enough to stand up to Gwyn’s violent mood swings. It’s no excuse, but Gwyn wasn’t a well man. Gethin begged his mother to leave him but Katrin said Gwyn needed someone to look after him. And by the time he’d made his name, the money came too late to help her. She died just before the sale of
Samba
, never knew how famous it would make her son.

‘Gethin’s coped through the years by a combination of hiding his feelings and never standing still for long enough to let any one person get close to him. Until now.’

She caught hold of Coralie’s hands and held her gaze. ‘You only have to look at that portrait to know what Gethin feels about you, but if you care about him at all, you’re going to have to show him.’

‘So you had to drive nearly all the way to Cardiff for a feature on country weddings?’ Huw shook his head at Kitty. ‘It’s a bit soon to be doing all that, isn’t it? No wonder you’ve had a long day. All right, love?’

This to her mother who’d come in looking, Kitty had to admit, pretty wrung out from yet another meeting about the charity auction.

Alys hung her handbag on the back of a chair, bending to kiss Huw as she did. ‘I think I’ve done enough to stave off the lynch mob if Gethin ever returns,’ she said with a weary smile which faded when she saw Kitty’s expression. She was starting to look her age, Kitty thought guiltily.

‘These magazines expect a lot for their money, don’t they?’ Huw went on, returning to her. ‘You’re a new mum. Couldn’t everyone have come here? To the country? That would be more authentic, wouldn’t it?’

‘Yes, Dad.’ Kitty was too weary to disagree. ‘But that’s why they employed me to do the styling. To get the look without the inconvenience of actually being in the countryside. I couldn’t turn them down, there’s too much competition out there.’

Getting the feel of a relaxed, inexpensive wedding had been enormously hard work. The flowers, which were supposed to look as if they’d been picked from a garden, had looked weedy and dejected in the proofs, so Kitty had been forced to cheat and glam them up with some costly tall-stemmed white freesias. She still had her doubts about the rough hessian tablecloths, although that hardy perennial, the vintage fabric bunting, had wowed everyone, as usual. The tea lights in painted jam jars were very popular, too; sometimes she had to pinch herself when she thought how well she was getting paid to use such cheap, everyday props.

‘I made a chicken pie before I went to the meeting,’ Alys told her, washing her hands at the sink. ‘Would you like to stay?’

Kitty was about to refuse, but having sat down she was too tired to stomp off again. Jamie was quiet, which meant that she could eat in peace, too. Besides, no one made pastry like her mother. Thinking about it made her mouth water and the aroma of the cooked food filling the kitchen made her keenly aware that her stomach was empty. Her evenings weren’t exactly full either. With early starts at the dairy farm, Adam had taken to making flying visits in the evening, staying only long enough to say good night to Jamie, then leaving immediately. She closed her eyes and braced herself for another long night with no one to talk to.

‘There are no strings,’ Alys said, pushing her white bob from her face as she bent to open the Aga. ‘Just food. I won’t read anything into it one way or another.’

Kitty hesitated, torn between wanting to eat and bridging the gulf between her and her mother, then Huw made them all jump by banging his fist on the table. ‘I’ve had enough of this, young lady!’ he roared, making Jamie’s eyes fly open. ‘You’ve put your mother through too much already. And that young man of yours. Now bloody well stay where you are and eat.’

Jamie’s bottom lip started to quiver, but Huw picked him up and settled him in the crook of his arm, jiggling him up and down whilst he poured wine for them all and Alys dished up in silence. Kitty knew that a couple of sips of wine probably wouldn’t hurt Jamie. But whether it was the wine or the melt-in-the-mouth perfection of Alys’s pie, or perhaps it was simply being in the warm, relaxed atmosphere of her parents’ home, she wasn’t sure, but she felt the brittle carapace that had been holding her feelings in check starting to crack. Had she simply not noticed the way her parents interacted before? The way her mother’s gaze softened when she looked towards her father? Or her father, catching Alys’s fingers after they’d finished eating, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand? They made being a couple look natural and easy, not like the way she was with Adam which felt like walking on broken glass.

‘There are no guarantees with love,’ her father said, reading her mind. ‘You can’t hold some of it back, like a deposit, so you can get your money back if something goes wrong. You have to give yourself wholeheartedly, whatever the cost.’

Still in Huw’s arm, Jamie’s fingers opened like anemones at the sound of the voice rumbling beneath him. Huw extended a red, rough forefinger and Kitty swallowed a lump in her throat as her son gripped it and went back to sleep.

‘Whatever you think you’ve heard from the gossips,’ he went on, ‘you’ve punished your mother enough. You made your mind up without letting her have her say and she’s just accepted whatever you’ve dished out. You’ve got everyone running round in circles after you. Adam’s working all hours, your mother’s babysitting as well as trying to run the garden centre. And, despite all the thanks she’s got, she’s still fighting for this village and looking for funding so that the place has got a community facility everyone can use.’

‘But, Dad,’ she had to say it. ‘How can you just pretend nothing’s happened? How can you trust—’

He held up his hand to stop her. ‘Because only your mother and I know what really goes on behind closed doors. You talk about trust, Kitty. Where was the trust when you came running home pregnant? Wasn’t not confiding in your mother a form of betrayal? And what about Adam? Where was your trust in him to do the right thing?’

He shook his head sadly. ‘Love isn’t easy, but you can’t keep holding back if you want to give it a chance. Just like any of those plants out there, you have to cherish it when it’s delicate, nourish it to give it strength and show it some sunshine so it can blossom.’

Across the table from her, Alys was quietly sobbing. Kitty went over to her and held her very tight, breathing in the musky floral scent of Shalimar that Alys loved.

In her old bedroom the next morning, Kitty sat on the edge of her single bed, staring out of the window, pondering on what to do about Adam. Edith, looking full of her own self-importance, trotted off down the garden, followed shortly afterwards by Alys and Huw, holding Jamie in his arms. Lime clouds of
Alchemilla mollis
foamed at their feet as her parents, side by side, ambled down the path. Snippets of laughter and conversation drifted up in the morning air along with the scent of orange-blossom.

Kitty drew back from the window, conscious of not wanting to intrude on what seemed an intimate moment. No one looking at her parents now would see any outward sign of all the recent tension in their relationship. With hindsight, the separate bedrooms nonsense had been an obvious clue, but no one apart from her would have known about that.

What really worried her was how she’d failed to spot the signs; if the foundations of a relationship that she had always thought of as so constant and enduring, had been quietly slipping away under her nose, what hope was there for her and Adam? How would she know if she could trust him? She couldn’t imagine him deliberately hurting her, but his naturally gregarious and sociable personality meant he didn’t even have to go out of his way to attract female attention. Was she strong enough to let him be the man he was without letting jealousy and resentment come between them?

‘If this is the right thing for me to do,’ she said out loud. ‘Please let there be a sign.’

Kitty scanned the sky searching – for what? The clouds to part? A giant thumbs up perhaps? She looked again at the garden where, as her parents walked further away, her mother brushed past a crimson camellia, the shattered blossom spilling bloodied petals over the lawn behind them. Kitty’s hand fluttered to her chest and she shook her head. Was that it? That something so perfect could disintegrate at a touch? Was that her sign?

But when she dared to look again, her father was holding tight to both Alys and Jamie and her parents were staring into each other faces, looking at each other as if they hadn’t seen one another for thirty years. Well, maybe they hadn’t.

Leaving them to their private moment, Kitty turned away from the window, smiling a watery smile to herself and swallowing the lump in her throat. If, after all those years together, her parents could still look at each other with a love and tenderness that moved her to tears, maybe she and Adam could figure it out. When she got in she would ring him.

Gethin still couldn’t work out where he’d gone so wrong with Coralie, except that some people said that his father had never worked out his feelings for his mother, either, until she wasn’t there anymore. But at least he’d done the right thing by Ruby. Plenty of people were talking about her on this bright June day; everyone had an opinion. The white marble interior of the impressive stone-vaulted entrance hall of the New York Public Library had probably hosted a few remarkable occasions in its time, but today’s event was something special. The photographers were everywhere, setting the marble gleaming with spangles of white light from their flashes.

Where earlier in the day the tap of every heel had rung out across the empty space, all the sharp sounds were now absorbed by the gathering crowd who, in turn, sent out new ripples of conversation and laughter. Gethin’s aching heart swelled with pride as Ruby, looking amazing in black silk crêpe de Chine Vera Wang pants and black stretch tee posed for the cameras. The judges of the Brave New Artists’ Prize for rising stars had picked a worthy winner.

To the right of her, Ruby’s vast, prize-winning painting, the first of her dramatic interpretations of how the Pre-Raphaelite vision might look transferred to modern-day New York, was creating quite a buzz. Her reworking of Edward Burne-Jones’s
The Golden Stairs
, featuring eighteen of her lesbian and gay friends who now filled the stone staircase behind her, had been inspired. Ruby had painstakingly caught the mood of the original work whilst adding her own character and spark. Looking round the room, everyone, from her models – some carrying musical instruments, all dressed in dove grey, and all desperately trying to keep straight faces – to the art enthusiasts applauding wildly in the hall, sensed that something big was happening.