Summer of Love (11 page)

‘And what have you been up to while the rest of us have been making an honest living?’ Richard spoke lightly but there was a hint of challenge in his teasing.

‘Oh, you know, the usual. Writing a book, stuff like that.’ Gus winked at Sian.

Not knowing why he had done this, Sian passed the salad to Fiona, wondering if she was the only one to feel tense.

‘So, Richard, how was your trip?’ asked Sian, ladling second helpings on to his plate without asking if he wanted it. ‘Where were you, exactly?’

‘Dubai, as usual.’ Richard frowned slightly. He always went to Dubai and Sian knew that.

‘It always sounds so glamorous,’ said Fiona. ‘Skyscrapers, shops, hotels, all springing out of the desert. I’ve always wanted to go to the desert, ever since those Turkish Delight adverts that were on when I was younger.’

Richard smiled politely. ‘I don’t get out into the desert, I’m afraid. I just get to see the skyscraper part.’

‘Oh, what a shame,’ said Fiona.

‘I’ll take you to the desert, Mum, if you want to go. You too, Sian.’

Gus smiled at the two women. Richard frowned. Sian didn’t entirely blame him – Gus did look a little pleased with himself.

‘So, what do you do in the desert, or wherever you happen to be?’ said Richard.

‘I travel, sometimes on my own, sometimes with indigenous people. I make observations, take notes. What I’m most interested in is learning ancient skills and crafts.’

‘And can you earn a living from it?’

‘Not really. It’s very hard. That’s why I’ve written a book.’

‘So you’ll go back to the wilderness when your book is published?’

Richard was behaving a little too like a firm-but-fair headmaster for Sian’s liking. They were just having a casual lunch. If Gus took offence it could all get awkward. Although she had to admit Richard was asking the sort of questions she’d like to know the answers to.

‘No. I’m home for a while now. I had an accident to my leg that took a long time to heal. If you can’t trust your means of transport you don’t want to be in the middle of nowhere.’

A rush of emotion – a mixture of relief, confusion and anxiety – caused Sian to give a little cough. Both men looked at her questioningly.

‘Um, seconds – thirds, even – anyone? There’s loads. Blackcurrant crumble to follow, courtesy of Fiona, who gave me the blackcurrants from her freezer.’

‘I think pudding,’ said Richard decisively. He smiled at Sian. ‘And have you …?’

She nodded. ‘Yes, I’ve made custard. Otherwise I’ve got some ice cream if you’d prefer?’ She looked questioningly at her other guests.

‘Custard sounds lovely,’ said Fiona.

‘Are you another Bird’s fan, Fiona?’ asked Richard, smiling at her. ‘Not many people seem to use it these days, but Sian makes it just as I like it.’

‘So you’re a good cook then, Sian? I didn’t know that about you.’ Gus smiled in a sexy way and Sian hoped fervently that neither of the others intercepted it.

‘Making custard is a lost art,’ said Richard, ‘although I expect you can do it perfectly,’ he added to Fiona.

‘Thank you for the compliment,’ she added, ‘but actually, I always get lumps in it. It was one of the things that broke up my second marriage.’

‘Surely not!’ said Sian, getting up and beginning to clear the plates.

‘Well, it’s the little things, you know,’ said Fiona.

‘And those little things can make a relationship as well as break one,’ said Richard, looking at Sian with undisguised fondness.

‘I can’t believe we’re all getting so heavy about custard!’ The plates gathered, Sian retreated to the kitchen.

Gus picked up the salad bowl and the remains of the macaroni and followed her out.

‘You’ve got to love a girl who can make Bird’s custard,’ he said, taking the wooden spoon out of the saucepan and licking it.

Sian turned away so he wouldn’t see her sudden smile. ‘It’s a lost art, remember. Right up your street.’

‘I know,’ said Gus. ‘I know.’

It was such a relief when Richard got up to go that Sian hugged him goodbye more enthusiastically than she meant to. He hugged her back and she realised she’d given him completely the wrong message.

Annoyed with herself she went back inside to find Fiona washing up in the kitchen and Gus stalking about in the sitting room, picking things up and putting them down again.

‘So you and Richard are good friends?’ he asked, picking up a pen and taking it apart.

‘Oh yes. He’s been really helpful. He found me this house and his sister runs a nursery where Rory goes.’

‘Just good friends? Or is there something more to it?’

She gently removed the pen. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ It was the sort of question you only make up a really good reply to several hours later, she realised. And she didn’t want to talk about Richard to Gus, it was none of his business.

Gus picked up a photograph. It was of Sian and Rory, taken about a year ago. ‘So this is the famous Rory? He’s very like you!’

‘Yes!’ She possibly sounded a bit too relieved as she said this but he didn’t seem to notice.

‘So do you see his father?’

‘No. No, not for years.’ She smiled, trying to indicate that this was fine. ‘We’re on good terms though. It’s not a problem.’

‘So Richard’s my only rival then?’

He gave her a crooked, teasing smile and it sent Sian into a panic. She couldn’t be sure if he was really teasing or not. ‘Don’t be silly!’ She laughed nervously. ‘Anyway, what do you mean rival?’

‘I was kind of hoping we could carry on where we left off?’ He raised an eyebrow in a comically suggestive way.

‘God no.’ Sian shivered. It was all getting far too personal. Memories of that wonderful night flooded back, and here she was alone, with Gus. She couldn’t let him see the effect he was having on her.

‘Calm down! I wasn’t suggesting we rush upstairs right now.’

Sian was horrified to discover that she suddenly felt tearful. Part of her
wanted
to rush upstairs with him but the sensible, practical side of her knew she had to think of Rory now. She mustn’t even hint to Gus she still found him infuriatingly attractive. And anyway, there was yet another part of her that wasn’t sure how she really felt about him, she just knew his arrival had turned her ordered world upside down. Her emotions were in complete turmoil and she didn’t like it. She bit back the tears. Her sleepless night had obviously made her overwrought and emotional. ‘Gus, please don’t talk like that.’

She turned away from him so he wouldn’t see she was upset but he came up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder, turning him round to face her. ‘Sian, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—’

Like an angel sent from heaven, Fiona breezed into the room. ‘OK, that’s the big dishes out of the way. Come on, Gus, we must leave Sian in peace now.’

Sian collected herself, smiled at Fiona and said, ‘Yes, actually, I’m expecting Rory home at any moment.’

‘I’d love to meet him,’ said Gus, concern still etched on his face.

‘You will, darling,’ said Fiona, ‘but I expect he’ll be terribly over-tired and ratty just now and Sian won’t want you meeting him then.’

‘That’s right,’ said Sian. ‘That’s exactly how it is.’

When she was alone she realised that not only did she not want Gus meeting Rory when Rory wasn’t at his best, she didn’t really want Gus meeting him ever. But of course she knew that wasn’t possible, and even if she didn’t tell him Rory was his son, she did want Gus to like him. A mess of contradictions, she slumped on the sofa. Why was life so complicated? Perhaps she should just marry Richard after all. There was more to life than passionate sex. Richard would be much better at the really important things, like caring, providing and nurturing. Gus would be hopeless at that, she was sure. And Rory needed a proper father, not an adventurer who would disappear off at a moment’s notice. She leant back and sighed. Then she heard Jody’s car draw up and, pulling herself together, she headed to the front door to welcome Rory home.

Fiona and Angus walked back home together, the hoods of their waterproofs pulled up against the rain that was now pouring down. Whilst it was welcome for the gardens it was somewhat unexpected after the glorious weather they’d been having.

‘Sian’s a lovely girl, isn’t she?’ said Fiona, knowing she shouldn’t, but unable to stop herself. She instinctively felt Gus and Sian had known each other a lot more intimately than either of them had let on. But she had to be careful. Gus would clam up the moment he felt his mother was ‘interfering’.

‘She is.’

She could divine nothing from her son’s simple statement. ‘And Rory’s gorgeous! I love Rory.’

‘Can’t wait to meet him.’

‘And she helped me so much with my dinner party. I must have them both over for a meal to say thank you.’

Gus glanced down and Fiona noted the playful smile in his eyes. ‘I think that could start a weird pattern, couldn’t it? You have a dinner party, Sian helps you, you have to have another one to thank her, she helps you …?’

‘But she doesn’t need to help me any more,’ said Fiona wickedly. ‘I’ve got you.’

Angus laughed and Fiona thought how nice it was to have that rich colour in her aural world again. Maybe that was one of the reasons she’d tried internet dating; she missed male voices. Robert had a nice voice. Not a perfect voice, but still nice. James’s was even nicer, she realised. ‘So how did you and Sian meet again?’ she asked, trying not to sound as if she was prying.

‘At a party. As you do.’

‘Only if you go to the right sort of parties,’ said Fiona, aware that she didn’t. (Hence the internet dating.)

They walked in companionable silence until they’d nearly reached the house, and then Angus said, ‘Mum, I have to warn you, there’s a van coming with my stuff in a couple of days. Have you got anywhere to put it?’

This was a bit of a surprise. Angus always seemed to travel light through life. ‘How much stuff? I could easily stash your sleeping bag behind my couch, to quote an old song. But a houseful of furniture might be a problem.’ She was trying to downsize not add to the clutter.

‘It’s not furniture, but there is a fair bit of it.’

‘What is it?’

‘Tents, yurts, equipment.’

Fiona considered. ‘The barn has a bit more space in it now. Shall we go and look now or wait until the rain has stopped?’ She’d promised Sian she could use it to paint her furniture in but it was a large barn – there should be room for everything.

They went in through the back gate to the courtyard. ‘Here we are. It’s quite a bit more organised than it was.’

‘What’s this monstrosity, Mum?’

‘Oh, that’s an armoire I’ve given to Sian. We couldn’t shift it with just us, so she’s going to paint it.’

‘If you can’t move it, paint it?’ Angus raised his eyebrows.

Fiona laughed. ‘Well, it seemed easier at the time.’ She paused. ‘Is there enough for what you need?’

Angus surveyed the few square feet that was empty and laughed.

‘Not quite enough, Mum.’

‘Oh.’ Just how much stuff
did
he have, she wondered.

‘Only if we get rid of more of this.’ Angus made a sweeping gesture.

‘We can do that, but where will Sian paint her furniture?’

‘Maybe we can share,’ he said after a moment.

Fiona shivered. ‘Shall we go inside?’ she said. ‘It’s raining, in case you hadn’t noticed.’

‘This isn’t rain!’ said Angus. ‘This is the gentle tears of the gods, showing their disappointment with the world.’

It might have been a while since she’d last seen her eldest son, but Fiona still recognised when she was being teased. ‘Let’s go in and have another cup of tea. And for your information, this is rain. And we should be glad to have it.’

In spite of Sian’s diligent clearing up, the signs of the dinner party were still evident in the serving platters piled up on the worktop, the rows of glasses, clean but not put away and an army of empty bottles lined up by the recycling bin.

‘I think you’d describe that as a “serried rank” of bottles,’ said Angus.

Not entirely sure she wasn’t being reprimanded, Fiona put the kettle on. ‘I do always wonder if people realise that refers to teeth.’

Angus leant against the worktop. ‘So why such a big bash, Mum? It’s not like you, is it?’

‘Actually it is like me, but Jeff never let me have more than six, including him and me. Now I don’t have to worry about what he thinks any more, I’ve gone expansive.’

‘That can’t be it. Jeff has been out of our lives for years and years.’

‘I owed people,’ she went on. ‘And one of the reasons I gave the party was so Sian could meet Margaret. Do you remember her?’

Angus shook his head. ‘There were several people at that dinner party I didn’t know. And a couple of them were men.’

Fiona concentrated very hard on not reacting. If she didn’t look guilty he wouldn’t ask any more questions. It seemed silly to worry. She was a grown woman and could do what she liked, but after Jeff she was anxious not to do anything that might upset her boys. ‘Oh? Well, I wanted to welcome Sian to the area, and meet Margaret, who might stock her furniture in her shop.’

‘I see.’

Fiona laughed. ‘I’m sorry so many of my guests turned out to be your old flames.’

He frowned and Fiona sensed tension in him, which surprised her. He was probably travel-weary.

‘And it must have been quite a shock arriving to find the house so full,’ Fiona went on. ‘I still don’t quite see why you didn’t ring to say you were coming.’

‘I thought you’d flap around getting ready and I just wanted to surprise you.’ He looked at his mother quizzically.

‘And you did. But you can’t blame me if you were a bit surprised yourself.’

Chapter Eight