The Seven Stars (6 page)

And yet — and yet — he just wasn
’t David Webb, she admitted ruefully. As things stood, she had both Charles’s friendship and her relationship with David, and she was selfish enough to want that arrangement to continue.

All the same
, at the doorway of Beechcroft Mansions she didn’t turn away when Charles bent to kiss her. It was a good kiss, like Charles himself. Fond, hinting at hidden depths but making no demands. She withdrew before it could deepen.

‘
Good night, Charles. And thank you.’

He smiled crookedly.
‘For what?’

‘
For the lift,’ Hannah said smilingly, and let herself into the house.

4

Andrew was whistling as he collected his golf
bag from under the stairs the next morning. Helen watched him with a dry mouth. The moment had come.

‘
Have a good game,’ she said, and as he nodded absently, added, ‘I shan’t be here when you get back.’

‘
Where are you off to?’

‘
Steeple Bayliss.’

He turned
, frowning. ‘To see Pen? You never mentioned it.’

‘
I hope to see her, but I’m going to attend a two-week course on antiques.’

‘
Two
-
week
?
’

‘
As you reminded me, I need something to do; this is the first step towards starting work again. Also,’ she continued above his protest, ‘it will do us both good to have some time apart.’

He was suddenly still.
‘What do you mean?’

‘
Oh Andrew, why not admit it? Things haven’t been right for a while. As long as the children were here we could disguise it, but not any longer.’

He said tightly
, ‘I get it: this is all because I blasted you about that phone-call.’ His voice rose. ‘Good God, Helen —’

‘
You see?’ she said quietly, lifting her hands.

‘
See what?’

‘
How it is between us. We can’t discuss the least thing without your flying off the handle.’

‘
You regard this as “the least thing”, announcing you’re going away to consider the state of our marriage?’

‘
I’m right, though, aren’t I?’

‘
OK, so I have a short fuse, but you can be bloody infuriating, you know.’

‘
I’m not saying it’s all your fault; we must both change if we want to go on living together.’

He digested that for a moment
, then said more quietly, ‘I wish you had let me know how you were thinking.’

‘
Would it have made any difference? Anyway, let’s use the time apart to see how we feel.’

‘
You’ll come home the middle weekend?’

‘
No, it’s part of the course.’

‘
But you are intending to come back, in two weeks?’

‘
Of course.’

‘
Can I phone you?’

‘
It would be better not to, and see how we get on. I’ve stacked the freezer with one-portion meals; all you need to do is put them in the microwave. You won’t starve.’

‘
You’re not — going with anyone?’

‘
No, all by myself.’

‘
When did you decide on this?’

She hesitated. If she told the truth
, it would reinforce his idea that it was tit-for-tat. ‘A day or two ago. Now, you’d better go — the others will be waiting.’

He eyed her doubtfully.
‘So I’ll see you — when?’

‘
A week on Saturday.’

‘
What shall I tell everyone?’

‘
That I’m on a two-week course. What else?’

He nodded.
‘All right,’ he said, and added, ‘Enjoy yourself.’

Awkwardly
, he bent and kissed her cheek. ‘Goodbye, then.’

‘
Goodbye, Andrew.’

She remained where she was until the sound of his
car faded into the distance. The die was cast, her bridges burned, the Rubicon crossed, and all the other metaphors she could think of. She just prayed she was doing the right thing.

*

Before leaving home, Helen phoned Penelope, asked if she was free for lunch, and arranged to pick her up about twelve-thirty.

‘
But why are you coming up?’ she demanded, and then, fearfully, ‘Nothing’s wrong, is it?’

‘
Nothing’s wrong. I’ll explain when I see you.’ And Helen firmly put down the phone.

Thankfully
, last night’s mists had cleared, and although the day was not bright, it was clear and dry. Her spirits began to rise. She had the course to look forward to, and it would be pleasant staying at the Seven Stars. The four owners interested her; she’d like to know them better.

By the time she drove on to the campus
, she was feeling more cheerful than she had for months. Penelope was waiting outside the halls of residence, looking, Helen thought, the archetypal student, with her long hair and faded jeans. She scrambled into the car and leaned over for a kiss.

‘
This is a surprise! What’s it all about?’

Helen reversed on the gravel and headed back down the drive.
‘I’ve enrolled in a course on antiques and it’s to be held at Melbray Court, just outside town.’

‘
I know it, we went there for a jazz concert. But what brought this on?’

‘
Well, I’ve been at a loose end since Past Times closed. I’d really like to go back to what I was doing before I married, but I’m pretty rusty and decided I needed a brush-up before applying anywhere. The course lasts for two weeks, so it should give me a good grounding.’

‘
How did you hear about it?’

‘
It was in the local paper the day I brought you back. Remember I told you I stayed over because of the fog? In fact, I’ve booked in at the same place again.’

‘
Well, good for you. What did Dad say about it?’

‘
He was rather taken aback,’ Helen said lightly, ‘but he knows I’ve been restless lately.’

‘
So you’ve left him to fend for himself?’

‘
If you can call it that, with a freezer full of cooked meals.’ Her daughter laughed. ‘Bet he’ll be glad to see you back, all the same.’

Helen wished she could be equally sure.

They lunched at a pleasant wine bar in the High Street and Penelope chatted happily about the first ten days of term and the girl who was sharing her room. Then, pushing back her plate, she said, ‘Now, tell me more about this course.’

Helen reached in her bag for the prospectus.
‘The first week covers furniture, works of art, ceramics and so on, and the second’s devoted to paintings. During the weekend, apparently, we visit a local country house. It should be fun.’

Penelope glanced at the sheet.
‘Sir Clifford Rudge, no less. Remember how, wherever we’d been, we always had to be back in time for his programme?’

Helen laughed.
‘The days before videos!’

Penelope handed back the brochure.
‘It looks as though you’ll be busy.’

‘
But apart from Saturday, the evenings are free and so is the whole of Sunday. I thought we might have a meal or go to the cinema, if it wouldn’t interfere with your work?’

‘
Great; I’ve no essay deadlines at the moment.’

‘
Say one evening, whichever week suits you, and next Sunday? Decide what you’d like to do and let me know; you can reach me on this number after about six.’

Penelope nodded and slipped the note in her shoulder
bag. ‘Have you heard from Thomas?’

‘
The usual request for funds.’

‘
Already? I don’t know what he
does
with it,’ said the thrifty Pen smugly.

‘
Tries to impress his girlfriend, no doubt.’

‘
But we all go Dutch, that shouldn’t be a problem. Did Dad hit the roof?’

‘
Actually, I didn’t tell him.’

Penelope shot her a swift glance.
‘Temper uncertain?’ Instantly Helen felt disloyal. ‘He has a lot on his mind at the moment.’

‘
The Stately Homes business, you mean?’

Helen
, who hadn’t known what she meant, seized on the suggestion gratefully. ‘They’re having no luck whatsoever. Each time it happens, the burglars and their loot disappear into thin air.’

‘
They’re probably sitting on things till the hue and cry dies down.’

‘
But it
won’t
die down if they keep doing more burglaries; and it’s almost two years now since the first one.’

‘
Poor old Dad,’ Penelope said absently. She glanced at her watch. ‘Mum, I hope you don’t mind, but I’m due to play squash at three. I fixed it before I knew you were coming.’

‘
That’s all right.’ Helen signalled the waiter for the bill. ‘I want to do some preparation anyway. I raided the library for books on antiques and paintings, so I could mug up a bit and not seem too ignorant!’

Having returned her daughter to the university
, Helen set off, rather earlier than anticipated, for the Seven Stars.

Today
, the High Street was practically deserted and, driving leisurely along, she was able to appreciate the charming haphazardness of its architecture, a reminder that this had once been a small market town.

Ancient Tudor buildings
, their black ships’ timbers banding the white plaster, nestled against four-storey edifices with wrought-iron balconies and mullion windows in a companionable melding of the centuries. Some, Helen noted, bore the names of well-known chain stores, but, with their modern fashions hidden behind historic frontages, ancient and modern coexisted in a unique blend of individuality.

Once through the town
, she settled back for the twenty-minute drive to the Seven Stars. The road she was following was fairly high, and to the right, rolling downlands fell away, giving glimpses of clusters of thatched roofs, a church spire, and, nearer at hand, barns stacked high with hay.

On the left
, occasional farmhouses edged the road, steep-gabled and in Cotswold stone, with tall chimneys which looked as though they’d been stuck on as an afterthought and notices at the gates advertising potatoes and onions for sale. Far away behind them, Helen could see the wooded slopes of the Chantock Hills. Her quick dashes along the motorway, she reflected, had given no inkling of the attractive countryside which lay beyond.

Then the Seven Stars came into sight and
, turning into the drive which led round to the courtyard, she parked in the same place as before.

Ahead of her was a shoulder-high stone wall
which abutted at a right angle from the mews block to form the fourth side of the courtyard. Helen went to look over it. Beyond lay a sizeable garden, drab now in the dank January air, but, judging by its well-tended beds and neatly pruned shrubs, a pleasant place to wander in summer. Roughly a quarter of it was devoted to vegetables, which augured well for the cuisine, and at the far side of the lawn stood a wooden summerhouse.

Shivering suddenly in her thin jacket
, she returned to the car, removed her suitcase, and walked round to the front door.

As before
, it was Stella Cain who answered it. ‘Mrs Campbell — welcome back!’

‘
Thank you. I’m sorry I’m a little early, but there’s some work I’d like to get down to.’

‘
Of course. You can sit here by the fire, if the constant coming and going won’t disturb you, or in the television lounge if you prefer. There’s a fire in there, too.’

‘
Thanks, but first I’ll unpack and have a cup of tea in my room. Is it the same one?’

‘
Yes, I’ll —’

‘
Don’t bother coming up, I can manage.’ Helen took the key from her.

‘
Are you sure? Come down whenever you’re ready, then, and make yourself at home.’

Helen went up the wide staircase
, thankful that her early arrival had been accepted; she was aware that in bed and breakfast establishments, guests were not expected to hang around during the day. In fact, she’d been hoping to spend longer with Penelope, but she had after all given her very little notice.

The cream and red bedroom awaited her and Helen looked round it with pleasure. This time
, she thought with satisfaction, she had personal things with which to stamp it — her travelling clock, the tortoiseshell brush and comb.

She switched on the radio and started to unpack
, laying underwear and sweaters neatly in the chest of drawers. Then she filled and plugged in the kettle and sat down in the red plush armchair to enjoy her cup of tea.

So here she was
, she thought, looking about her with satisfaction and a sense of surprise that she had so far achieved her purpose. Andrew, albeit reluctantly, had accepted her two-week absence, and with it the prospect of a more serious work commitment. Admittedly he’d seemed less keen to contemplate the state of their marriage and so, for that matter, was she. Still, two whole weeks lay ahead of her. During that time a solution might present itself, but if it hadn’t by, say, the next weekend, she would set aside time to consider the position.