Moving On (22 page)

‘I love the way the living areas are spacious and I’d love to go all over the house, but if we’re to do the shopping in time, we need to get a move on.’

She studied his single shelf of supplies in the walk-in pantry in surprise, then peeped into the near-empty fridge. ‘Is that all the food you brought with you?’

‘’Fraid so. I’ve been neglecting the home front lately, eating out most of the time.’ He winked at her. ‘My nearest neighbour here has been particularly kind about feeding me.’

‘I didn’t exactly lay on a feast. A few sandwiches are nothing. I can always cater for a friend.’

‘Yes, you would be able to.’ His smile was particularly warm as he said that. ‘See you in ten minutes.’

Shopping with Euan was fun. She saw other women eyeing him, then looking enviously at her. She wished . . . Oh, stop it, you fool! Just go with the flow.

By ten o’clock, they were back and opening up the sales office.

At eleven Euan’s first appointment turned up; a man he knew already and clearly got on well with. He took him down to look round the houses.

Molly enjoyed the quietness. Well, it was mainly quiet. She could hear the men working on the new row of houses. A glance out of the window showed that they were making excellent progress. It wouldn’t be long before the new row of houses was finished. They were carrying in fridges and cookers to the end two now, and the outside timbers were getting their second coat of paint.

At twelve o’clock the noise stopped and soon afterwards, two vehicles drove past.

Euan came back and immersed himself in work on his computer. He looked up to say, ‘You might as well surf the Net, have a bit of fun. There’s nothing you can be doing here till someone turns up.’

‘Are you sure? It feels like . . . cheating.’

Another of those warm smiles. ‘You’d never cheat, Molly.’

She was surprised when he suggested she go to lunch. She hadn’t realized it was one o’clock already.

As she ate some cheese and crunchy vegetables with hummus in the caravan, she decided to pick up her emails. It had been days since she’d bothered, but she didn’t get many these days so it probably didn’t matter.

When she found a message from her son, her breath caught in her throat and she had to take a few deep breaths before she could pluck up the courage to open it.

For Brian, master of the terse word, it was a long email. What it said brought tears to her eyes.

She nearly answered straight away, but something held her back, told her not to rush into this. She wanted to think carefully about her answer, about whether she’d tell Brian where she was. And she wasn’t sure she believed he was sorting himself out. He’d lived to drink and party, like her daughter.

What worried her most was that he might tell his father where she was. She’d found the courage to do a lot of new things, but wasn’t sure she’d find the courage to face up to her ex.

When she went back to the office, Euan took one look at her and said bluntly, ‘What’s upset you?’

She blinked, horrified to find more tears filling her eyes, and before she knew it, he’d come round the desk and put his arms round her.

‘What’s happened? Tell me.’

‘My son’s emailed. It’s the first time I’ve heard from him since I threw him out.’

‘If he’s been saying something to upset you . . .’

‘He hasn’t. He’s worried about me, wants to know where I am. And . . . he says he’s sorry and is sorting himself out.’

‘And that’s upset you?’

‘Mmm. Because how do I know he means it? If he does, it’s what I hoped for. If he doesn’t, if he’s pretending because he wants something from me – well, I don’t know what I’ll do. I don’t think I can cope with any more . . . disappointments.’

‘You’re not sure about him? Not sure he’s telling the truth?’

‘Not sure at all. All three of them could always fool me easily. I was the original soft touch. And they were always so scornful towards me.’

He rocked her in his arms. ‘Oh, my little love, you didn’t deserve that.’

She gasped at what he’d said. ‘What did you call me?’

‘My little love,’ he repeated, following this up by a gentle kiss on her lips. ‘It’s happened very quickly, but I seem to have fallen in love with you.’ He brushed a strand of damp hair off her forehead. ‘But you’re not certain whether to believe me, or whether you dare trust me. How could they have done this to you?’

‘How could I have let them?’

‘There is that. Would you let them again?’

‘No. Definitely not. But it took a lot to strengthen my backbone, so I’m not proud of myself.’

‘Onwards and upwards. Now, about your son. Do you know where he’s living now?’

‘No. I only have his email address and his mobile phone number.’

‘Why don’t you give him a ring, then?’

But she shook her head. ‘Not till I’m in better control of myself. I’ve been too weak in the past. I’m not hurrying to smooth things over.’ She realized she was still in his arms and oh, she didn’t want to move away.

He smiled and dropped another of those sudden kisses on the tip of her nose. ‘I like hugging you. I like kissing you, too, and we need to talk about ourselves, but this is neither the time nor the place for it because unfortunately, someone’s just driven up and parked.’

‘I didn’t even hear the car.’ She stepped hastily back. ‘Thanks for the . . . the comfort.’

‘My pleasure. Oh, and would you please come out with me tomorrow night? I’d say tonight, but I’ve a long time arrangement to see some old friends. Next time I go to see them, I’ll take you with me.’

She couldn’t pretend. ‘I’d love to go out with you tomorrow night.’

‘And wear something pretty. I know a great restaurant.’

She looked at him doubtfully.

It took him a minute to work out what the problem was. ‘I’ll come over and help you decide what to wear. I’m good at clothes. It’ll be fun being your dresser.’

Stuart helped his mother plan the funeral, which left her tearful, so he didn’t pursue the question of what she was going to do afterwards, saying only that he’d be over the following day for a chat about the future.

Since they were both early birds, he was at her house by eight o’clock. She looked tired and strained, as if she’d not slept well, and her eyes were reddened. His heart clenched with love and he swept her into his arms. ‘You need a hug.’

She clung to him for a moment or two, then pushed away and gave him a watery smile. ‘You were right. I did need that. Want a cup of something as we talk?’

‘I’ve just finished a mug of tea, thanks.’

She led the way into the sitting room. ‘I can still manage my life perfectly well, you know. I’m not a child nor am I in my dotage.’

‘I know you can manage, but I don’t like the thought of you being here on your own.’

‘Well, that’s how it is. I’m not moving anywhere and I’m
not
going into one of those retirement places. This is my home and I want to stay here till . . . the end.’

‘I knew you wouldn’t want to move, so I think it’s about time I told you my news, though I’d be grateful if you’d keep it to yourself for the time being. Don’t even tell the rest of the family. I’m going to be part of a big new company dealing with electronic security in an age of terrorism. It’s international and though I’ll be based in England, I’ll be doing a lot of travelling all over the world.’

‘Sounds exciting, just up your street.’

‘It is. But Wendy’s sick of travelling and following me around. Her wire sculptures are getting very popular – well, I love them myself. They take your eyes into so many soothing curves. I’ve held her career up for long enough, so we’re going to buy a house and settle down properly, a house big enough for a decent workshop for her. In fact, the one we both want to buy is Molly’s house. We love living here. Do you think she’d sell it to us?’

‘I think she’d be glad to. She’d have sold it by now if it hadn’t been for those louts harassing her. I do hope you’ve sorted them out.’

‘The first round went to me. I think they’ll be back, though, once her ex finds out I’m buying the house. He’ll want to put me off the neighbourhood, as he did the other buyers. Though maybe we can get round that by buying and selling secretly.’ He waited. ‘What do you think, Ma? Would you like me for a permanent neighbour?’

‘I can’t think of anything nicer. You and Wendy both.’

‘Good. I’ll email Molly once the funeral is over and ask if I can go down to Wiltshire to talk about the house. Now, do you need any help with the guest list?’

‘It won’t be a long one. Most of our friends have died or are too infirm to come. Old age is cruel. It steals your life from you one piece at a time. I’ll rough out a list then check with you two. I rang your brother and he’s flying here from Australia for the funeral. I wish he’d managed to get back for a visit before . . . it happened.’

‘Yes, so do I.’

‘What about your daughters, Stuart?’

‘I’m sure they’ll come down from the north for it. Wendy rang them last night.’

He left her and started back towards his house, then turned back, intending to tap on the kitchen window and tell her something he’d forgotten.

But she was sobbing bitterly at the kitchen table, head on her arms. He hesitated, tears coming into his own eyes at the sight of his mother weeping. But he moved quietly away, leaving her to her grief.

Some things you needed to do in private. And no one could weep for you.

Saturday morning dawned sunny and bright. Jamie woke early, in spite of a restless night. Something had woken him. What was it? He raised his head and heard the sound of Rachel dry retching in the bathroom. Throwing off the covers, he dragged on his dressing gown and went to stand in the doorway.

She turned to look at him, eyes soft as a puppy’s; pretty even now and looking as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. ‘Oh, Jamie, I feel terrible.’

‘It’s your own fault.’

She groaned and rubbed her temples. ‘Don’t shout at me.’

‘I wasn’t shouting. Do you remember coming home last night?’

‘No. Was I very noisy?’

‘On the contrary, you were nearly unconscious and you’d thrown up over yourself.’

‘Ugh. I hope you put my clothes to soak.’

Somehow, this was the final straw. ‘No, I didn’t. I’m damned if I’m going to clear up your messes.’

She didn’t seem to hear. In a little girl voice, she pleaded, ‘Best of darlings, would you
please
get me some coffee and four paracetamols? I’ve got
such
a headache.’

‘Get them yourself. I’m going out.’ He began to fling his clothes on, hearing her shuffle into the kitchen, groaning as she opened a cupboard.

When he started to unlock the front door, she called out in a sharper voice, ‘Jamie? Where are you going?’

‘
Out!
’ he yelled at the top of his voice, then slammed the door after himself.

He heard her calling, ‘Don’t go. Jamie!’ But he didn’t dare stay at home today to watch her nurse a hangover. In his current mood, it’d be all too easy to say something he might regret.

Might regret . . . or might not.

But if he said what was on his mind at the moment, if it did come to that, he intended to say it after long and careful thought, not in the heat of anger.

And if a tear or two escaped as he strode along the street, because what he was thinking was agonizing, there was no one looking at him on a blustery morning and the tears soon evaporated. People were too busy fighting against the wind and getting on with their grocery shopping to gape at passers-by.

He’d made a mess of his life. A bad one. No wonder his parents had never warmed to Rachel. They’d never said anything against her, that wasn’t their way, but they had suggested he wait to get married and try living with her first. Only, her damned father had scotched that.

What would his family say if he—? He bit that thought off. He wasn’t sure of anything at the moment.

He decided to go to one of the big London museums for the day, the V&A. Rachel didn’t like museums, didn’t have the slightest interest in history of any sort, even fashion history. He’d missed his cultural outings lately. He’d missed a lot of things, blinded by her beauty and the great sex they’d shared.

But the shadow looming over his life was so huge it prevented him from enjoying even his favourite museum. In the end he went to sit quietly by the Thames, watching some little children playing under a couple’s fond gaze, trying not to think about his problems.

Failing, of course, because he could see only one course of action possible.

He went home as the day started to fade, not knowing how to face Rachel. But there he found a note from her saying Tasha wasn’t well and Daddy needed a partner for a function, so she’d gone out with him. She’d be back late, but not drunk, underlined heavily.

Did he care?

Not much.

Sunday was another working day. Molly didn’t see Euan till he opened up the sales office, and as they weren’t busy during the morning, he went back to his house to catch up on paperwork. He always seemed to have paperwork waiting.

‘Don’t forget, Molly! Give me a ring if you get busy.’

‘Yes, I will.’

She felt at a loose end when he’d gone. She’d already tidied the office and sorted out the cupboards. She’d have to bring a book with her for the quiet times. In the end she faced the problem of drafting a reply to her son.

If he really had started acting responsibly, it’d be wonderful.

She was interrupted by some people coming to look round the houses and by the time they’d gone, she’d decided to give Brian her new mobile phone number. After all, no one could trace her from that, could they? And it’d be lovely to speak to her son again.