The Way We Were (24 page)

Julia agreed with him; she remembered that there had been a text message on her mobile from Liv earlier that morning: ‘B in 2 c u pm.' Well, that wasn't a problem although ‘pm' was a bit vague. Julia chuckled. Liv could be the most irritating and infuriating person in the world but just the sight of her – blonde hair flying, wide smile, always with some little treat in her hand – dissolved any feeling except huge affection.

She stopped at Bridport for petrol and chocolate, then drove on until she reached the turning to Eype where she could use the public lavatory and let Frobisher out for a run. The parking bays were nearly full on this warm, sunny morning but she found a space and got out to release Frobisher. As she walked him from the car park towards the lane, an old orange VW camper van came trundling in and motored slowly round, its driver looking for a place to stop.

All in a moment Julia was transported back twenty-eight years: she could hear the twins bickering, Charlie shouting, and was aware of the shade of Tiggy at her shoulder, thrusting her hand under her arm and saying, ‘Let's go and have a picnic.'

Instinctively, Julia pressed her elbow against her side, remembering. She stood quite still, staring after the van until Frobisher tugged impatiently on his lead, and she moved forward automatically, feeling oddly shaken. After all, she'd never forgotten that summer – how could she? Losing Tiggy and her own child within hours of each other; how could she ever forget? Yet today, in the hot sunshine, the sight of the old orange van had the same unsettling effect that had begun to manifest itself earlier. Further up the lane, Julia unclipped the lead so that Frobisher could potter unhindered and as she wandered after him, head bent, arms crossed beneath her breast, she brooded on this strange sensation. She felt a very strong desire to be at home and she took out her mobile and sent a text to Liv: ‘B home about 3. C u then.' Julia realized that the prospect of seeing Liv was very comforting indeed.

She walked back to the car peering for the van, which was now nowhere to be seen, and set off again. To the west: down into pretty, thatched Chideock, past Charmouth and Axminster, round Honiton and on to the M5. She could remember the days when they'd driven through the busy towns of Honiton and Exeter to reach the A30 but now the great roads sliced across the countryside and she drove at a steady speed, pulling off the new A30 on to the old road through Whiddon Down, and parking by the entrance to a public bridleway. She let Frobisher out and he disappeared into the tall grass of the bridleway whilst she sat sideways on the passenger seat with the door open, eating a sandwich and drinking coffee from the lid of the flask. The sun was hot and Julia sat quietly, eyes closed, trying to relax. In years past this had been a favourite stopping place on the way home, to let out the dogs and allow the children to stretch their legs. She finished her coffee, screwed the lid back on the flask and stood up. The northern flanks of Dartmoor shimmered with a powdery golden light in the afternoon heat and Julia was once again assailed by the sensation that Tiggy was somewhere near. So strong was this feeling that for a mad moment she seemed to see the Turk's low, strong, supple body, racing towards her, scimitar-shaped tail waving. Of course it was Frobisher who came panting up to her: his silky, feathery coat was black, not coarse and wheaten-grey; his deep-set eyes in the noble brow were pensive, not round and dark and intelligent like the Turk's.

Julia bent to stroke him, her hands trembling just a little. She was not given to flights of fancy, or an over-active imagination, and she was disturbed, even frightened.

‘Not far now,' she said aloud, as much to comfort herself as to reassure Frobisher. ‘We should be home in an hour and a half at the most.' She was filled with a great need to be at home, having tea with Liv, telling her about Charlie and Jo and the children. ‘Come on,' she said to Frobisher. ‘Let's get on our way.'

She drove on through Sticklepath and rejoined the A30: past Okehampton, over Dunheved Bridge with Launceston away to the right and its castle crouched on the hill. Julia remembered how the children had always cheered and clapped as they'd crossed the Tamar into Cornwall.

‘Hooray!' they'd shout. ‘Nearly home.'

As she drove, Julia was unusually conscious of the route of the old A30, now merging with, now departing from, the big dual carriageway that carved its way across Bodmin Moor. No longer did the heavy traffic pass through Five Lanes but, as she crossed Hendra Downs, she could see the old road snaking away to the left, up past Jamaica Inn at Bolventor; and here at last was the signpost to St Breward. She pulled into the middle of the road, waited for a break in the traffic and turned right, jolting over the cattle grid and on to the open moor.

If she'd expected to feel some relief from her uneasiness now that she was so close to home she was disappointed. She knew that it was going to be one of those bad moments when she approached the turning at the bottom of the lane, where all those years ago the car had aquaplaned into the great granite boulder.

‘It wasn't your fault that Tiggy died,' Pete had said, over and over. ‘The weather was appalling. You did the only thing you could have done. Oh, yes, I suppose you could have left her there while you went for help but she was in labour, dammit. Stop torturing yourself, love. We've simply got to put it behind us.'

Easy to say, thought Julia grimly now; almost impossible to do. The bad moments had occurred less often with the passing of the years but today the sense of horror and loss possessed her again and Julia knew that it would require all her willpower to overcome it. She drove into St Breward, parked outside the Stores and went in to buy milk and bread and a few other necessities, and then headed back out of the village to Trescairn. She turned down the drive, pulled up outside the house and groped in her bag for her keys. Frobisher was standing up now, his tail wagging at the prospect of freedom, and Julia climbed out and opened the tailgate.

‘Safely home,' she said with relief. ‘Let's go and make a cup of tea.'

Forty minutes later, Liv arrived; bundling in, her blonde hair slipping down from the casually twisted top-knot, carrying a paper bag.

‘Hi,' she cried, giving Julia a hug. ‘Are you OK? How are Charlie and Jo and the babes?' She flourished the paper bag. ‘One of Debs' cakes. I know you're always a bit miz when you've left Charlie and Jo so I thought we'd need something special.'

‘I'm fine,' said Julia, her heart lifting at the sight of her daughter. ‘Everyone's fine. They send their love.'

‘Hello, old doggie.' Liv embraced Frobisher. ‘Have you had a lovely time? Did everyone spoil you rotten?' She continued to kneel, stroking Frobisher, but her eyes were on Julia, who was making a fresh pot of tea. ‘You're looking worried,' she said. ‘Are you sure they're all OK?'

‘Quite sure. I'm tired, that's all. It's a long drive.' Julia put the pot on the table. A new thought occurred to her, bringing with it a darting stab of fear. ‘I suppose Caroline's all right? Have you heard from her?'

‘She phoned last night to say that Zack's due back at the weekend, just in time for the baby, if all goes well.' Liv took plates from the dresser, arranged the cake and sat down opposite her mother. ‘She's torn between longing to get it over with and wanting Zack to be there.' She cut a piece of the coffee sponge and bit into it with relish. ‘Poor old Caroline. It's a bit hot for being very pregnant.'

Julia took a slice of cake and stared at it: how hot it had been, that summer of ‘76. It was the first time she'd ever let the Rayburn go out; they'd heated things up on a small camping stove. She looked up to see Liv staring at her curiously.

‘Do you remember Tiggy, Liv?' she asked. ‘I mean, actually
remember
her, not just know about her because she's part of the family history.'

Liv frowned consideringly. She picked up her mug and sat holding it in both hands, her elbows on the table.

‘Not really,' she said at last. ‘Not if I'm honest. I remember the camper van and all that stuff but when I rack my memory Tiggy herself is a sort of shadowy figure. Good vibes, though. She's very real to me because you've often talked about her and described things we all did together, but actually remembering her? No. Why?'

‘Nothing in particular. I saw a camper van just that same orange colour and since then she's been on my mind a bit. And there's something else that happened before that, when I was still at Charlie's, and I simply can't remember what it was. It's bugging me.'

‘What kind of thing?'

‘Oh, I don't know. Just something I heard or saw that triggered off a kind of anxious feeling.'

‘Is that why you asked about Caroline?'

‘Probably. I'm just being silly.'

‘Caroline's fine,' said Liv firmly. ‘But I know what you mean. It'll come to you at three o'clock in the morning. Don't fiddle about with that slice. Respect the cake.'

Julia laughed. ‘You're right. It's very good cake. Thank you, darling. Sorry. Just having a senior moment.'

‘You're missing Dad,' diagnosed Liv, ‘and Charlie and every-one. I know you hate leaving them. Tell you what, I'll stay and make us some supper. What have you got in the freezer?'

Liv got up and went out to the back porch, rooting in the freezer, while Julia ate thoughtfully. There was something so capable about Liv, so strong and positive.

Julia thought: I wonder if that's how Tiggy saw me all those years ago. Was I like Liv, full of confidence and quite ready to take on other people's problems?

‘There's some fish,' she called to Liv. ‘Dover sole. It can go straight into the oven. I bought some brown bread and there's a lemon in the fridge. That will be plenty for me. I never want much when I've been travelling. Can you stay the night?'

‘Sorry, Mum, I simply can't. There's far too much to do tomorrow. You know what it's like at this time of the year.'

‘Yes, of course I do. It's sweet of you to come over when you're so busy How are Val and Chris? Rushed off their feet? So much for the quiet life.' Julia laughed. ‘I expect they wonder why they ever left London. Have some more tea and then we'll take Frobes for a walk.'

*  *  *

Driving back later that evening, Liv was grateful that Julia never pried into her private life. If her mother longed for her to settle down, like Charlie and Zack, she'd stopped mentioning it long since. She hadn't mentioned Matt either, although, now both she and Dad knew about the project at The Place, they were keen for her to accept Matt's offer. She'd seen him several times during the last few weeks and each time she was with him she felt the force of his personality and a growing confidence that her immediate future was with him at The Place. However, once she was alone again, out of his field of magnetism, she fell prey to doubts and, though he was making no attempt to press her, she knew she must come to a decision very soon. She was confident that she could meet the professional requirements of the job but she wondered if she had the temperament to make the long-term commitment that Matt needed.

As for Chris … Ever since Aunt Em had told her about Angela, she'd tried to keep a line between them that she was determined not to cross. Even now, with Val inexplicably plunged once more into bad temper and fits of gloom, Liv was managing to hold Chris at arm's length whilst still trying to support and encourage him.

He'd been so sweet that morning when Cat had arrived for coffee.

‘Don't leave me alone with her,' Liv had pleaded with him. ‘I know it sounds crazy but please stay with me.'

And he had. They'd come out of the office together when the little sports car pulled into the yard, and it had seemed quite natural for the three of them to stroll over to the café.

‘We were just going to have a break,' Chris said. ‘Nice timing.'

If Cat realized that she was being outwitted she didn't show it: she was amusing, complimentary, fun. Only when Val appeared, puzzled by the empty office and not recognizing the car, was Cat able to take revenge.

‘So you're Val,' she'd said, as though she'd heard a great deal about her. ‘Great to meet you. What a set-up you have here.' She'd laughed, making a little face. ‘A fun threesome. I'm impressed that you don't mind that these two were an item. That's really cool. I'd be afraid that they were getting up to allsorts of things when I couldn't see them. Old flames can cause a lot of trouble. Isn't that so, Liv?'

There had been no appropriate answer, only confusion and embarrassment. Cat had been delighted.

‘You're right,' Chris had said grimly to Liv much later, after she'd gone. ‘She's bad news. Val's furious.'

Liv parked the car, glancing round the yard. From two of the cottages light streamed out but the other two were dark and two cars were missing: probably the visitors had gone out to supper. She'd just put her key in the latch when she heard footsteps behind her, caught the smell of Chris's cigarette.

‘Hi,' he said. ‘Nice evening?'

‘I've been to welcome Mum back,' she said; her heart was beating just too fast for comfort but her smile was friendly, nothing more. ‘It's a bit miz coming home to an empty place after a week with family so I stayed for supper.' She paused, door open now. ‘Everything OK?' Then, very casually, ‘Like some coffee?'