Summer of Love (38 page)

‘I think I’ll have the salmon,’ she said, focusing on anything but the look of devotion on Richard’s face.

He chuckled gently. ‘You really are very unusual. I practically propose to you and you tell me what you want to eat. I’ve known women who can’t do that even when they haven’t got anything else to think about.’

The truth was, Sian had so much else to think about, it was nice to have an easy decision to put her mind to. At least she was sure she liked salmon. Nothing else in her life seemed so certain at the moment.

‘I think it’s early days to talk about marriage,’ she said. ‘But it’s never too early to talk about lunch.’

‘Very well then. I’ll join you in the salmon. Do you want a starter?’

Suddenly Sian felt a rising tide of panic build inside her. She saw her future flash before her: a life of perfectly pleasant lunches like this one. She’d be trapped in a perfectly pleasant life full stop, and she couldn’t bear it.

‘No, I don’t think so,’ she said, getting up. ‘In fact, I suddenly feel a bit sick. I’ll just go to the Ladies, if you’ll excuse me—’

When she was in the Ladies Sian looked at her reflection and realised why she felt sick. It was the thought of sharing the rest of her life with a good, kind man, who bored her rigid. How could you learn to love someone who bored you? Why hadn’t she noticed before? Was it because when they’d been just friends, with no other agenda – or no terribly pressing agenda – he hadn’t been so boring? Was it because he was looking at settling down with her, as a happily married couple, that he became so dull, so lacking in possibility? Gus had his faults, in fact he had every fault ever invented, but he wasn’t dull. With him there would always be something new over the horizon.

It wasn’t really that she had a choice – Gus was clearly not an option any more – but did the fact that she still thought of Gus, constantly, every conscious and unconscious minute, mean that she couldn’t go on pretending with Richard?

Yes, she realised, it meant exactly that.

She took several long deep breaths and then went back into the restaurant to break Richard’s heart.

*

Sian drove back to the village with tears streaming down her face. Richard had been so good about it, so noble, so utterly self-sacrificing. She had almost been tempted to take it all back and throw herself into his arms, but having got the words out, having spoken her mind, she couldn’t.

‘I always knew it was too good to be true,’ he said. ‘I knew that bastard Angus would get you in the end.’ He had paused, while Sian gulped back the sobs. ‘Let me know if he lets you down. I’ll be here.’

She hadn’t actually mentioned Gus, she’d just said she couldn’t live with him if she didn’t really, really love him, and not just as a friend. She knew in her heart she’d made the right decision but somehow that didn’t make her feel any better.

As she came to the village, she decided she couldn’t face being alone in the cottage right now. It had been her haven, but it was full of boxes and packing cases ready to move to Richard’s, and now she’d told Richard she couldn’t live with him, finding somewhere new was even more urgent. But where? Not even her mother’s demon internet searching had found anything affordable in the same area – even if she wasn’t fussy about having a garden and three bedrooms so she could work.

She decided to go and see Fiona. She hadn’t seen her for ages, possibly because they were avoiding each other, neither of them knowing how to be with each other since she and Gus had had that huge row.

But she and Fiona had been friends before Gus had appeared: their friendship might survive the differences between Sian and Fiona’s son.

She drove past Fiona’s house to check if the Land-Rover was there and when she couldn’t see it she parked at home and walked up. As she waited for her knock at the door to be answered, she wiped her nose and hoped the fact she had been crying wasn’t too obvious. She should have gone into the cottage to fix her make-up, really, she thought.

‘Is Gus here?’ she asked when Fiona came to the door.

‘No, I’m afraid not. But—’ Fiona began.

‘Thank God for that. Can I come in?’ Sian asked anxiously, suddenly unsure of her welcome and sniffing.

‘Of course,’ Fiona said, opening the door wide and ushering her in. ‘You’re obviously dreadfully upset, but I kind of wish you weren’t pleased that Angus isn’t here. I was hoping you’d come to see him.’ She led the way to the kitchen and Sian followed, still hiccuping and wondering what Fiona meant about Gus.

As she got to the kitchen table Sian made a big effort to calm herself. She wiped her nose on the back of her hand and then said, ‘Sorry, that was disgusting.’ She got up and helped herself to a sheet of kitchen towel.

‘Do I put the kettle on or open a bottle of wine?’ Fiona asked.

‘Tea, please. I’ve got to pick up Rory soon.’

Fiona made tea, a process which allowed Sian to pull herself together a bit.

‘So,’ Fiona said, putting a mug and a packet of Jaffa Cakes down in front of Sian. ‘What’s up?’

Sian sighed and clung to her mug of tea as if it could keep her from more crying. Seeing Fiona sitting there, so kind and concerned, it was all she could do not to put her head on the table and start sobbing all over again. She just hoped Fiona wouldn’t hate her.

‘I’ve just broken the heart of a very good man,’ she said.

‘Oh? That would be the second this month then. Getting to be a habit.’

Sian looked up at Fiona, not entirely surprised. ‘Fiona, I presume you mean Gus – Angus – but I haven’t broken his heart. He was angry about Richard for some reason, but he had no right. I doubt he’s broken-hearted! In fact, I’m sure he’s fine.’

Fiona shook her head. ‘He’s not! I live with him, I know exactly how “unfine” he is!’ Fiona got up and found a knife to open the Jaffa Cakes, but it was obviously more to give herself something to do than because it was necessary.

‘That’s not my doing. And if anyone has a right to be broken-hearted it’s me!’ Sian said. Trust Gus to have made out that he was the one who was aggrieved and it was all her fault. As if he hadn’t been brazenly taking Melissa out for a romantic meal just hours after he and Sian had had a wonderful weekend together. And he’d even got his own mother believing him! She was the one who was broken-hearted, Sian thought indignantly.

She took a deep breath to calm herself. She wasn’t upset with Fiona, any mother would take their child’s side.

‘I promise you I didn’t break his heart, and I can’t believe that Melissa’s let him get away this soon in their relationship!’

Fiona looked bewildered. ‘Sian, what on earth are you talking about? Angus and Melissa aren’t together, they’re just friends.’

Sian considered, re-ran what she had seen in her mind and concluded that Fiona was mistaken. She didn’t want to tell her something that maybe Gus wanted to keep secret but she had to stick up for herself too. ‘I don’t think so. I saw them together, going into a cocktail bar. They were definitely more than just friends. They looked like a couple.’

Fiona shook her head. ‘Honestly, they’re not.’

‘Really! They are!’ She’d love to be wrong about this but she wasn’t. She’d read the body language and she hadn’t got the wrong message. ‘If they’re not why did they go into the bar together, all dressed up, laughing into each other’s eyes?’ Seeing Fiona wasn’t convinced she went on. ‘And why didn’t he get in touch with me …’ She couldn’t say ‘after we’d had all that amazing sex’. Fiona was Gus’s mother. That would be way too much information.

Fiona didn’t say anything; she sipped her tea. Sian watched her friend, who was obviously chewing over something difficult. ‘What?’ said Sian at last, bracing herself for the truth to finally dawn on Fiona – that Sian was right. ‘What are you thinking?’

‘I’m thinking that I have to break a promise. Possibly more than one.’ She took another sip of tea. The decision was obviously giving her some difficulty. ‘When do you have to get Rory?’

Sian glanced at her watch. ‘In about half an hour.’

‘We’ll have to hurry then. Come with me.’

Not at all sure that her friend hadn’t gone slightly mad, but feeling she had to humour her, Sian followed Fiona up the stairs to the first floor and then up to the attic. Fiona opened the door at the top of the stairs and said, ‘You go first.’

The smell of fresh paint, sawn timber and a tinge of new carpet hit her as she went in. She remembered this suite of rooms from before, when it had housed mountains of unwanted possessions. Originally the servants’ quarters, they had been left untouched for years.

Now, it was so different that it hardly seemed the same place. An old skylight was uncovered and now filled the space with light. A window she hadn’t noticed before meant light came in from both sides. She went to it and looked out, seeing the tops of trees, hills and fields beyond. The view was magnificent. But why had Fiona brought her up here?

‘This is the sitting room, obviously,’ said Fiona, ‘the bedrooms are through here. This one is a tiny double.’

Sian followed her into a room that had a double bed in it, an old dressing table that Sian recognised and a chest of drawers. This room also seemed light and airy when it had seemed so cramped when full of furniture. The window was smaller and when Sian looked out she saw the opposite gable. A new Velux was on the opposite slope of the ceiling. ‘I kind of hope no one ever finds out about that window,’ said Fiona, ‘but you can open it completely and get to the fire escape from it, so while it’s probably wrong from an architectural point of view, it is safe.’

Sian hardly heard her. She went into a little single bedroom, small but done up like a ship’s cabin with built-in furniture. It even had a round window.

‘This would be a perfect room for a little boy, obviously,’ Fiona went on, ‘and the bathroom, if you’ve time to look at it, is through here.’

Sian glanced at her watch and saw it was a quarter to three. ‘I should get Rory—’

‘Just glance.’

Sian glanced and saw a small room with a corner bath and a shower over it. A washbasin and a loo took up the rest of the space.

‘And kitchenette,’ said Fiona, opening some double doors revealing a sink, cooker and cupboards. ‘It’s tiny, but it’s independent.’

‘This is wonderful,’ said Sian, still not quite sure why Fiona wanted her to see it right now. She could have shown it to her another day, when they had more time. ‘Are you going to let it?’

‘No, you ninny! It’s for you!’

Sian looked at Fiona in confusion, but she didn’t have time to ask her what on earth she was talking about. She had to pick up Rory. ‘I must go, or I’ll be late.’ She headed for the stairs.

‘I’ll come with you,’ said Fiona, hurrying after her, ‘so I can explain.’

In the end they rushed so much they got to school early and had a few minutes sitting in the car.

‘Angus did it for you,’ Fiona explained. ‘It’s why you haven’t seen him. He’s been working so hard to get it ready. It’s not quite done, but good enough. He didn’t want you to have to worry about having somewhere to live.’

‘I don’t know what to say,’ said Sian confused. Why couldn’t Gus have just told her that’s what he was doing? And why would he do such a thing anyway, now he and Melissa were together? Then she realised: it was for Rory. He didn’t want to see his son on the street and obviously had to include her. ‘That’s kind of him,’ she went on. ‘Of course, I’d pay you rent.’

But it was hardly ideal, sharing a house with the man she was trying so hard to forget, possibly bumping into Melissa in a scanty nightie – or, God forbid, no nightie at all – as Sian went up to the attic.

‘You still don’t understand, do you?’ Fiona broke into her waking nightmare.

What was Fiona trying to say now? ‘I’m sorry to be dense, Fiona, but I don’t think I do. Perhaps you could explain?’

‘It really isn’t for me to tell you.’

‘What isn’t? Please, Fiona, just tell me whatever it is.’ It wasn’t like Fiona not to come to the point.

‘I think Angus intended—’

Just at that moment, Sian caught sight of a group of children heading towards the school gates. ‘Oh, they’re coming out. I’ll have to go and get Rory.’

‘Come back to tea then. You need to know the truth.’

But Sian had already hurried across the playground towards her son.

‘Fiona’s here,’ she said to Rory, having intercepted his book bag, lunch box and coat before they fell to the ground. ‘I’ve got the car. Do you want to go back to Fiona’s for tea?’ She was hoping he’d say no so she could just run Fiona home and concentrate on feeding Rory and not have to think what to do with her life – at least for the time it took to feed, play with, bath and read Rory a bedtime story.

‘Oh goody! Can I go in the shelter? Can I? Is Gus there?’

Rory’s enthusiasm meant Sian couldn’t get out of the tea invitation. She wished she hadn’t mentioned it but knew that Fiona would insist anyway. It was interesting that after their revelation that Gus was in fact Rory’s daddy, he carried on calling him Gus and looking on him as his fun big brother, she thought distractedly as they headed towards the car park.

Fiona had got out of the car and Rory ran towards her. ‘Is Gus there? I want to see him!’

Fiona caught him and swung him in the air. ‘Goodness me, you’re heavy! I’m afraid Gus is in London.’

‘Oh.’ Rory was put out but not for long. ‘Can I go in the shelter? Is it still there?’

‘Darling, that depends on your mum. You’ve got your school clothes on and the shelter will make you filthy.’ Sian was torn. She could tell that Fiona was unlikely to let her leave until she’d got whatever was bothering her off her chest. She was desperate to tell Sian something and might even resort to making a fuss if Sian didn’t sit down and hear her out. She had a feeling it was to do with Gus but wasn’t sure she wanted to hear it, and whatever it was she certainly didn’t want Rory listening. But the shelter would make him filthy, there was no doubt about it.

‘Tell you what,’ said Fiona, ‘we’ll find you some things of Angus’s – Gus’s – for you to wear instead. They’ll be huge but at least they’ll keep you cleanish. And whilst you’re playing in the shelter, Mummy and I can have a nice long chat.’ She looked pointedly at Sian.