Mulberry Gin. Chapter One.

MULBERRY GIN



Chapter One

Imogen went in and out of each room once more. She had already been through them twice, but one last time couldn’t hurt. Looking around she took in the familiar smells. Her perfume, the sharp tang of James’ aftershave and a subtler, underlying sent of their own bodies.
Even though she had taken her things out of each room, everything that actually belonged to her, it was hard to see any change. The few bags and boxes that now sat in her car weren’t much to show for her twenty six years. The house looked just as it had done on the day she first came to live there six years ago. James hadn’t offered to change anything when she moved in, so she hadn’t asked. Over the years she had gotten used to his tastes, and his things had become familiar to her.
She stood in the sitting room watching the sun stream through the vast windows and dance on the carpet. The rays caught something on the mantle piece and made it glint. She turned to see what it was. The silver frame contained their wedding photo. Imogen went over to it, held it in her hand and ran her finger over the glass. Just look at us, she thought, it was clear even then, for anyone who chose to look.
That dress had cost a fortune, it had all cost a fortune. She looked at herself, the blushing bride, the happiest day of her life, all the old clichés, and she could see. There was nothing in her eyes; they just stared at the camera like a rabbit caught in the headlights. It had been a great success, everyone said so, it all went perfectly and everyone had a wonderful time. People were talking about it for weeks afterwards. She looked at James, was he smiling? Oh yes he was smiling. And there was her father behind them doing a good impression of the Cheshire cat. As soon as the photos were over James and her father had wandered off, heads together, and had stayed that way for the rest of the day. There were a lot of her fathers’ business friends there and the reception had turned into a business meeting. She remembered that James hadn’t danced with her, not once. Every time she came over he had waved her away saying he would be with her later.
She sighed and gave a sad little smile as she put the photo back in its place; there was no need to take it with her.
She turned quickly and went into the kitchen. Glancing at her watch she decided it was time. She took the pale pink envelope from her pocket and propped it against the kettle. Her rings caught her eye. For days she had been tormenting herself over whether to keep then or leave them with the envelope. And if she kept them should she keep wearing them? They were beautiful, would have cost a fortune and most women would die for them. She decided to leave them were they where, she was still married after all. One day, maybe, she would take them off and give them back, but one day was a long was off.

Rowena March stood by the large French windows that led out from the kitchen into the vegetable garden at the back of Mulberry cottage. She lent her aching back against the solid frame and breathed in the cool spring air. Everything took longer on an Aga but she had always resisted advice to get more up to date. Today she was glad of the extra time it gave her. In her sitting room Molly and Eleanor were waiting for their tea and probably wondering why they had been asked there on a Tuesday rather than the usual Friday. Rowena had asked them because she had to tell them, but at that moment she still wasn’t sure how. She glanced over to the kettle, nearly. Turning back to the open window, she could see Frank bumping back to the farm on the old tractor. He would be coming in for his morning cuppa and she smiled as she watched him. Out to sea she could just make out a ship on the horizon and over head the gulls were screeching and shouting to each other, all around her life was going on as usual with no concern for her or the massive changes that were going to happen.
She realised that the kettle had been whistling for several seconds, the sound penetrated and brought her back. She moved across to the deep purple Aga and heaved the copper kettle over to the tea pot waiting on a tray already arranged on the kitchen table. As she poured the water she watched the steam rise and curl around the room, creep across the ceiling, fall back down and disappear. She had always taken as much pleasure in the little things. She loved finding the first violets of spring as much as buying a new painting for thousands of pounds. As time went by, as she got older, she found the little things became more and more important.
She took a firm hold of the tray and carefully made her way through to her waiting friends. Just before she entered the room she took a moment. She felt like some of the seagulls had left the sea and were circling around and inside her. At her age she thought she had had the last of such feelings, there could be no new experiences to be faced at seventy eight surely? It turned out there was, and she wanted to get it over with.
Standing at the door she told herself off. She had never been scared of anything in her life and she was dammed if she was going to start now. Pulling herself up straight se sent the gulls back out to sea where they belonged. Then she pushed the door open with her foot and greeted her friends with a large smile. She knew they had been talking about her by the way the two women suddenly fell silent. It wasn’t surprising. Tuesdays was not the day for tea and village gossip, and they had all been friends long enough to know when one of then needed the others.
She took the tray over to the little low table and unloaded it. There was still silence as she moved about the small room she knew they were watching her but she wasn’t going to say anything until she was ready. She poured the tea and handed it round, then she took her own seat, tucked the tray by the side of her overly large red velvet chair, and made herself comfortable.
‘I’m glad you could both come’ she said finally, breaking the silence.
‘We were wondering why you’d asked us. I mean it’s very nice of course.’ Molly said. She could bear it no longer and needed to say something. ‘We were saying that maybe you’d won the lottery.’ She gave a nervous little giggle which didn’t suit her, but which she always resorted to when she was unsure of what to say.
‘I know what it is.’ Eleanor said in her loud, dominant voice. ‘She’s found herself a man.’ She turned to Rowena. ‘You’ve decided that you had better settle down now you’re nearly eighty.’ She nudged Molly conspiratorially and gave Rowena an exaggerated wink. They all laughed, it had always been a joke between them and it lightened the atmosphere.
Rowena pulled her face back into a serious expression.
‘I’m afraid it’s a bit more serious than that.’ She finished her tea to give them all a chance to gather themselves. She knew she must tell them now before they started off on another subject which it would be impossible to get back from. And then the gossip would start and her chance would be gone completely.
Molly and Eleanor exchanged glances and settled their eyes back on their friend. They knew something was going on. They had been hoping it was something and nothing, now they were not so sure. Rowena took their silence to indicate their readiness to listen and decided it would be now or never, she took a deep breath.
‘Before I tell you anything I need you to promise that you will listen and not get excited and interrupt.’
‘If that’s what you want.’ Eleanor said, a little offended, she gave a shrug and leaned back in her chair. Molly didn’t say anything, just nodded and took another sip of her tea.
‘As you know I have been slowing up considerably recently’ Rowena began. ‘I know it’s not surprising at our age but I was getting those strange pains and they were getting more frequent. I know you’ve been nagging me so a few weeks ago I finally went to the doctor. He sent me to a specialist who sent me to another specialist. After a great deal of poking and prodding they finally decided what was wrong. It’s all too complicated to go into and I can’t pronounce a lot of the names but the upshot is I have only a few months left.’
Molly gave a funny little squeak and opened her mouth. Eleanor gave her ankle a kick and shook her head. Rowena paused in case anything was going to be said before going on.
‘They have given me about four months, maybe a little more. I am lucky enough to have the time to do the things I need to. And it is in this that I shall need your help.’ There she had said it. She gave an inner sigh of relief and sat back to wait for their reactions. It was one of the hardest things she had ever had to do and she would never forget the looks on their faces, but they were her closest friends and she couldn’t let them find out on the village grape vine.
‘Oh my dear.’ Eleanor whispered eventually. ‘Are you sure, are they sure?’ she knew it was a pointless question but she had to ask it.
‘Yes they are sure. I know it’s a shock for you, it was for me to, but I’ve had time to settle myself to it. Let’s face it I was never going to go on much longer; at least I’ve been given the chance to put things in order. Not many of us get to do that.’
‘Oh Row.’ was all Molly could manage before she burst into tears and had to dive into her handbag for a hankie. Eleanor leaned over and put a hand on her arm while she sat and sobbed quietly.
‘I’ll go and make a fresh pot.’ Rowena said. She got up and took the tea pot with her into the kitchen. It was best to leave them for a few minuets to absorb her news. For her it was no longer something new that had to be taken in and thought over and she felt guilty that her friends had to go through this. But what could she do? And she was luckier than most. She had had a wonderful life with no regrets, well not many, and she had been given the time to make her arrangements and say her goodbyes.
She went back to the windows while the kettle boiled. There was Frank bumping back to the fields. She smiled; life would carry on just as well with or without her.
In the sitting room things had clamed down. Eleanor was standing behind her chair looking out of the French windows and Molly had stopped crying, although she was still making the occasional whimper into her handkerchief.
‘Here we are.’ Rowena once again poured out the tea and handed it round. She gave them a reassuring smile.
‘So what do you want us to do?’ asked Eleanor.

Imogen picked up her coat and bag and gave a final glance around. It was a beautiful house, an estate agents dream straight out of ‘Homes and Gardens’. Everyone told her how lucky she was. If anything this had only made it worse. She was lucky, she knew she was. A lot of people would have done anything to be in her position at her age.
By the door she caught herself in the hall mirror. Outwardly she didn’t look that different from six years ago. There was the same pale complexion, the same long blonde hair, the same slim figure, the same clear blue eyes, but the sparkle had gone. Recently she had started to wonder if it was there in the first place. If there was it had been well and truly extinguished. The eyes that had looked back at her from the photo were not the same eyes that had looked at the world before James, and they were not the same eyes that looked back at her now. She put her hand up and touched her cheek, she may look the same but she was leaving as someone else, someone she didn’t know.
She turned away and opened the front door, slamming it firmly behind her. The car was waiting for her loaded with bags and boxes. She had been picturing this moment for weeks, ever since she had received the letter, but now it was here she didn’t feel the way she had expected. She wasn’t happy or excited or scared, just nervous at having to drive all that way on her own. She also felt a coward for waiting for James to be away before leaving. She should have told him properly. Instead she had waited until he had gone to New York. She shook her head and locked the door, then she turned and quickly posted the keys back through the letter box. The jangling thud they made on the mat made it final, she couldn’t get back in now even if she wanted to.

‘You know we’ll do everything we can.’ Molly sniffed and blew her nose. ‘I’ll organise a rota of people to come in and look after you.’
‘That’s very kind, but that’s not the kind of help I need. I’ll hire a nurse when the time comes. What I need you to do will come afterwards.’
‘Oh Row please don’t.’ Molly started to snivel again.
Rowena decided to leave her to it and turned to Eleanor.
‘What I would like you two to do is get the cottage ready for Gin, and look after her when she moves in.’
‘You’ve lost me dear.’ Eleanor frowned. ‘I don’t understand, why would Imogen be coming to live here?’
‘It’s really very simple.’ Rowena said. ‘I have, of course, made a will. In it I have left everything to Gin, well almost. She will get the cottage, car and most of the money. It will mean she can finally leave James.’ she said his name as if she was spitting out a nasty taste. “She should never have married him and now she can leave him.’
She was so matter of fact, so sure of what she was saying, that it took Molly and Eleanor aback.
‘Rowena! That’s dreadful.’ Molly was so shocked that she stopped snivelling and nearly chocked on her hankie. ‘You can’t do that!’
‘I must say I agree dear.’ Eleanor said more calmly. ‘What makes you think she will want to leave James?’
‘Oh please.’ Rowena snorted. ‘You know as well as I do that she should never have married him. And she wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been for that brother of mine. I have always been sure she didn’t want to get married; now she can do something about it.’
‘And…um…what if she doesn’t want to leave?’ Molly was almost afraid to ask.
‘I suppose if she really wants to stay with him then she will.’ Rowena said this as if the idea had never entered her head, which it hadn’t. ‘I haven’t made it a condition of the will.’ she paused and thought for a moment. ‘But I’m sure she will. And when she does she will need your help and support.’
‘I hate to be the one to bring it up.’ Eleanor said. ‘But what if she decides to only use it for holidays or even sell up. After all this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea is it?’ She waved her hand around to show she meant the location as well as the cottage.
‘She might do, but I very much doubt she would ever sell.’ Rowena said. ‘Even If she doesn’t move in this will be the first place she’ll come when she leaves.’
‘Oh Row.’ Molly sighed and sank back in her chair. It was no use arguing with Rowena when she had made her mind up.
‘Is that all you want us to do? ‘Eleanor asked, she too knew it was no use arguing.
‘No I want you to take charge of a bequest for Cherith. I want her to have any one item from the house, so long as Gin has no objections. However it must be what she wants, not what that greedy brother of mine thinks he can get the most money for. I have made it a condition of the will that Henry must not accompany her when she comes to choose, and that she must choose in person. Mr Pengellan says he will take care of it but we all know what a bully Henry can be. I want you to come with Cherith to make sure she is alone and takes what she wants.’
‘You leave him to me.’ Eleanor said fiercely. She had never liked Rowena’s younger brother, not since he had stopped Imogen from coming down to Cornwall in the holidays. She had seen how much pain it had caused Rowena and never forgave him. ‘Molly can mop up the blood.’ she smiled.
At the mention of her name Molly looked up. ‘Oh yes I’ll do whatever I can to help…I…well I just don’t think it’s very moral that’s all.’ She hadn’t been listening past the talk of Imogen and was thinking of the plans Rowena had for her niece.
‘Good God Molly!’ Rowena exclaimed. ‘At our age who the hell cares about being moral?’ And they all burst out laughing.