Mulberry Gin Chapters 13 & 14

Chapter Thirteen.

James hadn’t had a day off for a long time. He had holidays but there was always work to do, phone calls and emails to deal with. He had blessed the person who invented the Blackberry. When he told Henry to go to hell he had given no thought to what he was saying or what he was going to do. All he knew was he didn’t want to be working with Henry anymore, or for a while anyway. Now he suddenly had time he had no idea what to do with. At the moment he was sitting in the kitchen in his pyjamas with his third cup of coffee. The first morning he had taken his coffee back to bed and tried to have a proper lay in, it didn’t work. This morning he had got up at his usual time but with no idea what to do. He lived in London for goodness sake there were hundreds of things to do. He could take a whole year off and still not do it all. When he was working he often thought about all the exhibitions he was missing. Now he could go to them he couldn’t think of one he wanted to see. There was one thing he knew he should do though and that was speak to Olwen. Maybe there was something she would like to do? He decided he would take her out for the day to say sorry.
Olwen’s car was in the drive, which was a good start. He rang the doorbell and waited. He could hear the sound of a vacuum cleaner. He rang again. The hum continued. Well she must be there so he went around the side of the house to the back garden. Through the sitting room window he could see Olwen vacing. He knocked on the window and saw her jump and spin round. She glowered at him and indicated for him to go back to the front door.
‘Sorry, I did ring the bell, twice.’ He said.
‘You scared me. You don’t expect people to watch you vacing through the windows. Come in.’ She turned back and walked through the house. James followed. She continued to talk over her shoulder. ‘What can I do for you?’ Her tone was clipped and he could hear the tension in her voice.
‘I’ve got a free day and I wondered if I could take you out, to apologise.’
Olwen raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
‘I was very rude the other week.’
‘Yes you were.’ She was standing to her full height and he could quite see why Jonathan didn’t always stand up to her.
‘You were right of course. I snapped because I knew you were right and didn’t want to hear it.’
‘So what’s happened to change your mind?’ She asked.
‘Lots of things. You always did see me for what I was didn’t you?’
‘I could see the mess you were making of everything. And Jonathan told me about Lizzie so I knew you were capable of being a human being.’
‘Thank you, I think.’
‘All though I have to say I had started to think I was wrong, you seemed to be slipping further and further into gittage.’
‘Ok… And do you think I can be stopped from slipping, can I be pulled back?’
‘Probably. Now you’ve started to see the cracks you might be able to patch them up.’
‘I hope so but I don’t think I know how.’ He sat down on the sofa with a sigh.
‘Well apologising to me is a good start. You’ve never done that before.’
‘And I told Henry to go to hell the other day. That’s why I’ve got some time off. I might have a lot of time off, he might be sacking me, or I might be resigning.’
‘Good for you! You may have noticed I’ve never liked him. How Imogen can be his daughter I always thought a mystery. So what brought all this on? Something must have happened?’ Olwen sat back in her chair and studded her brother-in-law. He certainly did look different. He was thinner but he looked less dishevelled than he did in the pub gardens. He seemed to have gone from an arrogant idiot to a complete mess to what, something in between? This hadn’t happened on its own, something had triggered it, just as Imogen leaving had triggered his decline, so something had triggered this new phase.
James mulled this question over and wondered whether or not to tell Olwen about Mandy. If he did it would mean admitting to the others, and that would open up a whole new box of frogs. On the other hand it might be best to get it all out in the open, and sounding things out with Olwen would be good practice for when he finally had to talk it over with Imogen. He took a deep breath.
‘Do you remember Kelvin and Mandy Colsanto? The couple from New York who were at that dinner party last autumn?’
‘Oh yes, very loud.’
‘That’s them. Well Mandy came to see me a couple of weeks or so ago, on her own, at home.’ he raised an eyebrow to give enfaces. Olwen sat without speaking. She was going to make him spell it out. ‘She made advances.’
‘Advances? You mean she tried to shag you?’
‘Olwen!’ Although he should be used to it by now it still seemed wrong for a woman to come out with such things.
‘Am I wrong?’
‘No. She all but dragged me up the stairs. But this time I couldn’t do it. All I could think about was Imogen. I just kept seeing her face. I used to be able to turn it all off and flirt right back, but this time I couldn’t stand her smell even. It was so false, so heavy and I just kept thinking how soft Imogen always smelt. I had to get her out of the house, out of Imogen’s home, as quickly as I could.’
‘Hang on here, you said this time you couldn’t do it, so there have been times when you have slept with your clients wives?’ Olwen was sitting forward on the edge of her chair, both feet square on the floor as if she was preparing to launch herself, which she might well be.
‘Yes I have.’ There it was said. He knew her reaction before she said anything. Her face was a picture of horror, disgust and anger.
‘Before you throw me out or slap my face I know how it sounds and it probably is all of that. But I honestly didn’t think Imogen knew.’
‘And if she had known, would that have made any difference, would you have stopped?’ She was trying very hard to keep her voice level and stay in her chair.
‘Honestly?’
‘Honestly.’
‘No, not back then. I thought nothing of it. It was business. It’s part of the game. You be nice to the wives and they tell their husbands to be nice to you. I didn’t see it as being unfaithful. They were clients and it was part of the job. I’m not telling this very well am I? But I’m trying to explain that nothing was done maliciously. I would never have an affair, not a proper relationship with another woman, not while I was married. And that was what I realised when Mandy was trying to get her hands down my trousers. I realised that being married to Imogen did mean something to me. I realised that, even though it would have just been another ‘shag’ for another deal, I didn’t want to sleep with anyone else except my wife. The fact that she wasn’t there somehow made it worse. I realised that… I think I love her.’ He flopped his hands in his lap and slumped down in the chair.
Olwen opened her mouth to say a whole stream of things, but closed it again. There would be little point in having a rant at him. He’d more or less admitted he was in the wrong. He still looked tired and she knew he had probably been sleeping badly. He had come to her to confess and talk it over, not to be judged or shouted at.
‘You know how bloody stupid you’ve been don’t you?’
James nodded.
‘So what are you going to do about it?’
‘I don’t know. Any advice gladly welcome.’ He tried to give a smile but only managed half. ‘I’m out of my depth. If the company was about to go bankrupt or I had to fire a dozen people then I could do it with my eyes closed. But love? No idea.’
‘What have you done so far, if at all?’ Olwen was calming down. If he was man enough to ask for help then she mustn’t throw it back in his face.
‘I wrote to her.’
‘Saying?’
‘Saying I wanted to know what was going on and what her plans were. She replied but she was talking about divorce. I don’t want that. I don’t know why she thought I did. I said nothing about it. I thought I had made it clear that I wanted her to come home. I don’t know what to do next. I did think about going down to Cornwall.’
‘Is that were she is, Mulberry Cottage?’
‘Yes. Rowena left it all to her.’
‘I’m not surprised. I assume Henry doesn’t know?’
‘Good God no! And please don’t tell him.’
‘I wouldn’t piss on him if he were on fire, unless the children’s lives depended on it. He’ll find out though. You need to get things sorted before he does, at least make a start. What changed your mind about going to Cornwall?’
‘I didn’t think I would be going for the right reasons. I’d be going because I wanted something. I thought it might be better to wait to be asked.’
‘It would. Why don’t you contact her again and ask if you might come down for a few days to talk. If she says no then you know you need to give her more time. If she says yes then you can go with a clear conscience can’t you?’
‘Yes that might work. Yes that’s what I’ll do.’ He nodded.

Imogen took the floral dress off and threw it on the bed. She picked up a pair of jeans and a white shirt and turned them over in her hands. By now almost her whole wardrobe was spread across the bedroom. She was going to spend the whole day with Philip but she had no idea what they were going to do. She picked the dress up again. It was lovely, pale pink with darker pink roses all over it. It was quite smart, but if she wore it with flat ballet pumps and her denim jacket, a recent purchase from the local market, then it should look more casual. She wanted him to know she had made an effort but not too much effort. Boris came in, had a quick scout around and jumped up onto the white shirt, covering it in a mist of black hairs. Well that put pay to the other option, so it had to be the dress.
There had been no real boyfriends before James. She had been out with one or two boys but Henry had always managed to scare them off. Even before James had come along Henry had seen her as on the market waiting for a good match to come along. It was such a shame they had come to this because when she was very small all she could remember was how much she loved her father. She could clearly remember him throwing her up in the air and catching her. They were out in the garden of that first house next door to Mrs Thing. It changed when they moved to the house her parents still lived in. She was too young to understand. As soon as things started to go his way and his fathers modest company started to take off he started to change. By the time she was old enough to notice it was too late and the father who had thrown her up in the air in the back garden had gone forever. Sometimes, if she tried very hard, she could remember odd bits of the old Henry. Of course she knew now that the Henry he had become must have been there all along under the surface. He must have been driven and selfish to have built things up the way he had. It was just such a shame that that side had to take over so completely.
She shook her head; she wasn’t going to think today. Today was going to be a good day. And tomorrow her mother was coming down. She was happy for the first time in years and she was not going to let anything spoil it. She was still messing about in the bedroom when she heard the gate squeaking. Her heart did a huge flip-flop. She told herself she was a grown up woman of twenty-six, but she didn’t seem to be listening. The soft knock on the windows made her jump and she hurried out into the sitting room. He was standing outside the open French windows waiting to be asked in. He was formally calling for her! He was dressed in a smart white shirt and clean jeans. Oh it wasn’t fair that one man should be so gorgeous.
He was looking down at his boots, clutching a small bunch of wild flowers and looking very nervous. He saw her coming across the room and looked up. He grinned.
‘You look lovely.’ He held out the flowers. ‘I thought you’d like these more than shop bought.’
‘I do. They’re beautiful, thank you.’ She put them to her nose and breathed in the scent of the fields and banks, fresh and clean. ‘I’ll put them in water. Come in.’
Imogen went through to the kitchen. Philip followed. He sat on the edge of the table while she busied about finding a vase and filling it with water. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Every time she moved the sun caught at her blonde hair and bounced off it sending stars across the room. He thought about the previous day, when she had been where he was now. When she turned she saw him watching her. She wished she hadn’t got the vase in her hands.
‘So where are we going?’ She asked as she carried the flowers back through to the sitting room.
‘Anywhere you like.’
‘Oh I don’t know. There are lots of places, but I can’t think. Do you want people or quiet?’
‘Quiet I think.’
‘That’s the Eden Project out then.’ She smiled.
‘Unless that’s what you want to do?’
‘Not particularly. There are some standing stones about five miles away?’
‘Sounds good to me. Those things are fascinating.’
‘The stones then. There’s a nice pub near by that used to do good food. We could have lunch there?’
‘Even better. So shall we go?’ He held his hand out to her. She hesitated a moment but took it.
If she had been worried about any embarrassment then it was for nothing. She felt so at ease with him. There was still a small part of her that wanted to hold back, but she knew she didn’t need to. They talked non-stop the whole of the short journey.
‘So do these stones have a story?’ Philip parked the Land Rover in the small car park on the edge of the field.
‘I expect so. I have to say if I ever knew then I can’t remember. I do know they’ve been used for all sorts of things over the years. People have been married here, well had the party anyway. All sorts of celebrations. At one time people believed that if you made love in the middle of the ring then you would have twins. That’s all I can remember.’
‘Cool. We have ancient sites in Oz of course. You have to go right out into the outback to find them. We live in the middle of town so we never bother. It’s a hell of a drive. That’s what I love about this country. You can be anywhere in a few hours. It can take days to drive some places back home.’
‘And we complain when we have to drive a couple of hours. It must be lovely though, all that sun.’
‘Sometimes. It can get a bit monotonous though. When you know you can spend everyday on the beach then you somehow don’t. Like you were saying about people not going to the cove because they know it’s there, same thing. You’ll have to come over some time.’
‘You sound like you’re inviting me round for lunch. It’s half way round the world! I’d like to see it though.’
‘I could show you it. We could hire a VW and go on a road trip around Australia.’ He grinned.
‘I thought you had college? I’m not getting in the way of you finishing your education.’ Imogen frowned.
‘You sound like my mother. She wasn’t too keen on me coming back here. Everyone has a year out these days.’
Hearing Philip talk like that reminded her how young he was. She bit her lip and looked away. It wasn’t realistic to have any kind of future with him was it? A few months travelling around Australia in an old VW might have appealed ten years ago, but now she would want air-con at the very least.
‘No I’ll be a good boy and go home at the end of summer, then I’ll go to uni and make mum proud.’ He turned to her and smiled. He knew what she was thinking and however much he might like the idea of them carrying on after the summer he knew. She was meant to be here and he was meant to go home and get his degree.
‘And what about you? What will you do when summer’s over?’ He asked.
‘I don’t know. I don’t want to think about it just yet.’
‘Fair enough.’ He grabbed her hand and started running towards the stones. ‘Let’s have some fun.’
They spent the next ten minutes running round and around the stones like children. Eventually Imogen halted next to the tallest stone and collapsed against it.
‘Enough.’ She puffed. ‘I’ve got stitch.’
He came up along side her barely out of breath and laughed. ‘I’ve got a bottle of water in the car, hang on.’ He jogged off back across the field. Imogen leant against the stone and slowly got her breath back. Her head was spinning and the heat wasn’t helping. She took her jacket off and sat down on the grass. This was what she had come down here for, to run round standing stones for no reason, to sit on the grass in the sun. It was magical. She could feel a warmth coming through the stone into her back. Rowena had believed in all those sorts of things, magic stones, crystal healing, herbal medicine, but it had never really rubbed off. She had been interested but never taken it all seriously. Sitting here though, on her own, she could see why people invested so much in places like this. There was an energy coming from somewhere for sure. She closed her eyes and let whatever it was wash over her.
‘That’s the second time I’ve caught you napping.’ Philip was standing over her holding out a bottle of water. ‘You ok?’
‘Fine. I was just taking it all in. It’s so quiet.’ She took the bottle. ‘Thanks.’ They sat for a few minutes in silence drinking and looking. Beyond the stones was the cliff path and then the sea.
‘Shall we walk for a bit?’ Philip stood up and brushed himself down. He knew if he stayed there he would have to kiss her again.
Imogen got up and smoothed her dress down. ‘You know the coast path runs the whole way around from North Somerset to South Devon. It’s hundreds of miles. Some people walk the whole thing for fun, mad buggers.’
Philip reached out and took her hand. They walked like that until they got to the cliff path. The path itself was too narrow and they had to walk single file. Once or twice hr reached his hand back behind him and caught hold of her hand or elbow. Suddenly he stopped, Imogen bumped into the back of him.
‘What’s that?’ He was pointing down into the water.
Imogen squinted over his shoulder. ‘A seal! And another one over there look.’ She pointed a little further out. ‘I’d forgotten! Oh aren’t they wonderful!’ She clapped her hands together like a child.
They stood together watching the seals playing in the water, bobbing and chasing each other. Imogen was still behind Philip, pressed lightly against his back and leaning over his shoulder so she could see. She wanted to stay like that forever. Philip moved his arm around behind him and put it round her waist. She felt her body tingle all over. She put her hands out and stroked his arm. He slowly turned around to face her. He moved his arms so both were now circling her waist. He put a hand up and brushed some hair from her face. She lifted her own hands up and cupped them around the back of his neck. Philip dipped his head and kissed her. They stood entwined on the edge of the cliff and Imogen didn’t care if they never moved again.

The gallery was packed. James gestured to Olwen that they should go, she nodded. They headed out into the not so fresh air.
‘Well I’m sure the paintings were worth seeing.’ James said.
‘Just a shame you couldn’t actually see them. It was a nice idea though. Shall we head home?’
They were walking towards the river and James realised that he hadn’t been in this part of the city for years.
‘I’d like to walk for a bit if that’s alright.’
‘Fine. I like it here. I bring the kids down to the river whenever I can. They love to go on the boat trips.’
‘A boat trip! Let’s do that. I haven’t done that since I was a child.’
They made their way to the Thames. It was buzzing. There was every kind of tourist cliché you could think of. There were the Japanese with their matching beanie hats and little cameras hanging from their belts. There were the Americans with their inappropriate clothes, large bodies and even larger cameras hanging from every part of them. There were the exchange students all huddled together giggling and talking rapidly in what James thought might have been Italian. Then there were the Brits who were trying desperately not to look like they were tourists on a day trip but that they actually lived there, trying to be so cool and looking completely ridiculus. With the assuredness of someone who actually did live there James went up to the naffist stall, selling the worst tat and bought them both a plastic union jack hat.
‘There you go. Let’s pretend were tourists.’ He plonked the hideous thing on Olwen’s’ head.
‘The kids love these and I never let them have them. They’ll kill me.’
‘We’ll take them some back.’
They got on the first boat they came to offering river trips. Olwen was giggling and James couldn’t help breaking into a smile. They did look stupid sitting there in their plastic hats.
‘This is fun.’ He admitted.
‘Steady on James, you might start enjoying yourself if you’re not careful.’ She nudged him with her elbow.
‘I should have done things like this with Imogen.’
‘Yes you should. You will. Come on you were having fun a second ago.’ She nudged him again.
‘I know, and I am. I miss her that’s all. But you’re right this is fun and I’m going to enjoy it.’ And in spite of himself he did. The boat took them past all the usual sights that he had seen a thousand times from the roads. They looked so different from the river. He was seeing his city as if for the first time. It seemed like a metaphor for his own life. It sounded cheesy but every time he saw a familiar building from such a unique angle he saw his own reflection bouncing back at him. They were telling him that however old you are, however set in stone you seem to be, you have more than one side. Maybe people saw only the flat façade that you chose to show them. But there was more going on if you let them see it. He knew he had only let Imogen see the façade. It all came back to Lizzie didn’t it? He had shown her everything, laid his whole self out before her and she had walked all over it, wiped her feet and then disappeared. Imogen was not Lizzie, she would never do that to him but he still wouldn’t let her in. Instead he had kept the best part of himself hidden so as not to expose it, and what had happened? The same thing. Now he knew that neither option was the way to go. Expose yourself too much and you get hurt, keep yourself boxed in and you get hurt, worse, you hurt other people.
When they got back on land Olwen decided to call it a day. She knew how much it had taken for James to do today and it was best not to push him. He looked shattered.
‘I think I should head off now. Thank you for this morning.’ She gave him a peck on the cheek. ‘You should smile more you know, it suits you.’
‘Thank you. And thank you for coming. I did think you might not want to speak to me again. And thank you for understanding. I know I don’t always express things very well. Mind you if you ever need to know about spread sheets or the stock market then I’m your man.’ He gave a half smile.
‘You see your taking the rise out of yourself. You should relax more often. Tell Henry to go shaft himself. Why not set up on your own?’
‘It’s a thought.’
‘So think about it. Anyway I’d better go I have some shopping to do while I’m out.’
‘Can I drop you somewhere?’
‘No I’ll get the bus. Or I may be really decadent and take a taxi. Thanks anyway.’
James watched Olwen disappear into the crowed. Spending time with her did make you feel like you had been hit around the head with a blunt instrument, but he no longer felt offended. He used to bristle every time she made one of her pithy comments. Now he saw it for what it was. All those times they had ended up glowering at each other with Jonathan looking uncomfortable. He smiled. They had been as stubborn as each other. She wanting him to listen, him not wanting to hear. She could see what was happening and could see that he needed to change. He could only see an interfering woman who should keep her opinions to herself. He shook his head as he walked back to the car. If he had listened to her a couple of years ago things might be very different now. Never mind, he was listening now. And her idea about setting up on his own wasn’t such a bad one. There were several clients he was sure would come with him. But that could wait.
Words started forming in his mind, stringing themselves together, breaking apart and bumping into each other. As soon as he got home he was going to call her. She might put the phone down, but he had to try. If he could just talk to her.
He hurried in through the front door and went straight to the study. His address book was on the desk and he riffled through it for Rowena’s’ entry. He hoped Imogen hadn’t had the phone cut of or changed the number. He diled. Well it was ringing which was a good start. He stood fidgeting from one foot to the other, twisting the wire around in his fingers. He should have got a hands free for in here like they had in the rest of the house. Then he could pace up and down as well. It just kept ringing and ringing. Eventually a clipped and formal automated woman told him that the person he was calling was unavailable and would he like to leave a message after the bleep? No, not really, he wanted to speak to Imogen. But if she wasn’t there, which she obviously wasn’t, then leaving a message was the next best thing. Now he had come this far he wanted to feel he had done something. He took a deep breath.
‘Hello Imogen, it’s James. I was wondering if it would be possible to come down and see you? I really do need to talk to you. Please could you call me back? If you say no then that’s fine. Bye.’ He stood in the middle of the room and tapped his fingers against his leg. He exhaled deeply, then kicked the desk leg. She was supposed to be there so he could say all the things he had rehearsed on the way home. He kicked the desk leg again.
He breathed in sharply and pulled himself up straight. Never mind, she‘ll call back and then he can say it.

The pub was small and full of all manner or oddities. There were pictures and framed photos all over the walls, books and china on shelves that ran the whole length of the walls. In any space left there were bits of old farm machinery and bits of metal that were unidentifiable to most people. Philip and Imogen found a table in a far corner and studied the menu. They sat close together, their knees touching, even though there was plenty of room on the bench seat. They were both flushed from the sea air, but Imogen’s’ racing heart had nothing to do with the long walk they had just had to get here. Every time someone looked across in their direction she felt herself blush. She was scared to death and ecstatically excited all at once. When Philip had looked at his watch and suggested they find the pub she had mentioned and get some lunch food was the last thing on her mind. Now they were sitting reading the menu and smelling the wonderful smells that were coming from the kitchen she realised she was starving.
‘So what do you fancy?’ Philip didn’t seem to realise what he had just said.
Imogen couldn’t help but laugh. Philip looked skywards.
‘I mean to eat.’
‘I’m sorry. I knew what you meant. Something with chips. I haven’t had chips for ages. Let’s see. Oh battered cod and chips, that the one. What about you?’
‘That sounds good to me. You’re closer.’ He nodded to the bar.

When the food came they both gasped. They were the biggest plates of food either of them had ever seen.
‘We should have ordered one between us.’ Imogen said in awe. ‘I’ll never eat all this.’
‘Course you will.’
‘I’ll get fat.’
‘Not that again. Have you looked in a mirror lately? You could put a whole stone on and no one would notice.’
‘That’s rubbish, but thank you anyway. I am hungry.’
‘So eat.’ He dived in and she joined him.
They sat in silence for a long time just eating and eating. It was the best fish and chips Imogen had ever had and she knew this was a day she would remember for a long time.

It was nearly dusk by the time Philip dropped Imogen off at her gate. All the way back she had been wondering if she should invite him in. She hopped out of the Land Rover and turned to face him. He didn’t move from the driver’s seat.
‘Thank you for today. Um…’ She bit her lip.
‘When can we do it again? Your mum’s coming down tomorrow right?’ He still wasn’t moving.
‘Yes. She’ll be here a couple of days.’
‘I’ll stay out the way while she’s here then.’
‘Thank you.’
‘I’d better go. I’m on morning milking tomorrow, five o’clock start.’ He smiled that smile.
‘Ok. Good night then.’ Imogen breathed a sigh of relief.
‘Good night, and thank you.’ She smiled.
‘For what?’
‘For it all.’
And off he went. Imogen watched the backlight as they turned into the farm. She walked slowly up to the cottage, passing the Mulberry tree.
‘You’ll sleep with him eventually you know.’ Rowena’s voice came in on the breeze.
‘Maybe.’
‘Maybe nothing. It was all you were thinking about all the way home. And I bet he’s been thinking about it a lot longer. Sex is not a crime you know.’
‘Do you have to be quite so direct?’
‘Oh definatly. I always found it was the best way. If you want him and he wants you then where’s the problem?’
‘I’m Married?’
‘Rubbish. You know my feelings on that subject. And you said it yourself. James has slept with other women.’
‘I only said I suspected he had.’
‘Don’t split hairs. He’s been shagging his way around the world on all his various trips you can bank on it.’
‘Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I can do the same.’
‘Oh for Gods sake it’s hardly the same thing! He was doing it while you were still married. Now you are separated, you’ve left him, you’ve asked him about a divorce. If you have found someone to have some fun with then that’s no longer any of James’s business.’
Imogen knew her aunt was right. She should not be feeling guilt over something that had no guilt attached to it.
‘Ok. How would you feel if James found out about Philip? How do you think he would feel?’ Rowena asked.
‘He’d be cross.’
‘But would he care?’
‘Only in as much as it would dent his pride.’
‘Exactly. So stop thinking about James and think about your own happiness. I didn’t leave you all this for you to let that man spoil it.’
‘He’s not really that bad.’
‘Oh Gin!’
Imogen carried on up to the cottage and let herself in. Boris was waiting for her and trotted off towards the kitchen.
‘Meow!’ Imogen didn’t know how a meow could sound cross but some how Boris managed it.
‘You want feeding I suppose. Fair enough. Come on then.’ They went into the kitchen and she filled his bowl. ‘I expect you have an opinion on what I should do with the rest of my life as well?’
‘Meow’ he started to purr and rub around her legs. If he could have said ‘more food please’ then he would. Imogen went to the pantry and got another pouch.
‘You might as well you know. My dead aunt is giving her views so I don’t see why a cat shouldn’t.’
‘Well if you really want to know then I like Philip and I never liked the sound of James, but hey, it’s your life.’ Imogen shot round and looked hard at Boris, who had his head in his bowel and was busy eating. She shook her head hard. She needed to get an early night, now she was hearing the cat talk.
She went back into the sitting room to lock the French windows. She walked past the phone but didn’t see the little red light flashing to tell her there was a message.


Chapter Fourteen.

Cherith nodded in all the right places while Henry was giving instruction. So and so might phone and she needed to take his mobile number, nod. She must check his emails every morning, nod. She must call him if she gets any trouble from James, nod. By the time he had finished she felt like one of those dogs that sit on the parcel shelves of tacky cars. She wasn’t listening to any of it. She had heard it all a hundred times.
‘What time are you supposed to be meeting the others at the club?’ She asked lightly.
‘Nine. I’ve told you that.’ He snapped.
‘Well it’s twenty to. I know what to do and I have all the numbers.’ She was trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. She wanted him gone. She wanted him gone an hour ago. She had hoped to be on the road herself by now. Why did he have to faff about at the last minute? He did it every time. Mostly she would bite her lip while he had one more look at a map or one more cup of tea before they left. Today she was biting so hard she expected to see blood any minute.
‘Bloody hell. Why didn’t you say so?’
How did he do that? He was the one buggering about. Telling her things she had heard countless times before and making himself late. She rolled her eyes.
‘If you get off right away you won’t be late. I’ll see you in a few days. Have a lovely time.’ She was edging him further and further towards the door as she spoke.
He gave her a cursory peck on the cheek and finally crossed the thresh hold.
Cherith waved him off up the drive and out of the gates. Then she closed the door and exhaled deeply.
‘Thank goodness for that!’ She said out loud. She decided to give him ten minutes to get clear of the area. Her bags had been in the under stairs cupboards for two days and she had been praying Henry wouldn’t suddenly decide to take an interest in the Hoover. She lugged them out and into her car. It was such an un-Cherith thing to do and she knew it could all backfire spectacularly.
Before she set off she decided to call Imogen.
‘Hello darling, it’s mum.’
‘Hi mum.’
‘Just to let you know I’m about to leave. I wanted to get an early start but your father did his usual tricks. He’s only been gone ten minutes. I’ll be there as soon as I can.’
‘There’s no rush mum, take your time. Molly said she’ll expect you when she sees you.’
‘Well I was hoping for lunchtime but now I’m not so sure. Oh dear. It seemed such a good idea. Oh well, I’m doing it now. I’ll see you later.’
‘See you later, and don’t worry too much.’
Cherith put the phone down and went straight out of the door before she changed her mind. She wanted to see her daughter and she wanted this whole mess sorted out.

Imogen put the phone down and saw the little flashing red light. She pressed the button and James’ voice came out at her. She jumped, she wasn’t sure who she was expecting to be leaving her messages, but it wasn’t James.
She listened, then she rewound it and listened again. She stood rooted in the middle of the room with a strange sense of de ja vau. Why could he not just leave it? Just when she seemed to be settling down here he was again. The letter was one thing, but wanting to come down was quite another. Her first thought was to lock herself in the bathroom for the rest of her life. She picked the phone back up and diled Cherith’s number. No reply. She had left already and she wouldn’t have her mobile on, she never did. Her next thought was Philip, but he was working and was probably in the middle of a field. Bother. Not even Boris was any help. She hadn’t seen him yet this morning, which normally meant he was sleeping it off under a bush somewhere. A cup of tea, she would make herself a cup of tea.
Boris wandered in half way through her second cup. ‘Meow.’ He came and brushed around her legs. ‘Meow.’
‘Oh Good morning, just. Where do you think you’ve been?’ She looked at her watch.
‘Meow?’ The look of innocence on his face told Imogen he had definatly been up to something.
‘Don’t come that, it’s nearly twelve and you’re only just home. You are a dirty stop out.’
‘Meow.’ He jumped up onto the table and started a very leisurely wash. It was the cat equivalent of the morning after the night before. He’d been sleeping off a hangover and now he needed a shower and a full English breakfast. Being a cat he would make do with a long wash and a bowel of cat food.
Watching Boris meticulously lick every inch of himself Imogen’s mind wandered. She sighed. She didn’t want James here, of that she was sure. What good would it do? He would make a scene, shout a lot and go home. She would let it all get to her and she would have to start all over again. And then there was Philip. It wouldn’t be fair to let him get caught up in her marital disintegration. James could dam well wait until the end of the summer.
She went through to the sitting room and sat down at the little desk. She took out the writing paper.
Dear James,
You left a message yesterday asking if you could come down and see me. I’m sorry but I must say no. I accept that we need to talk this over but, at the moment, I can’t offer you more than this letter.
I have a new life now James and it would not benefit either of us for you to come down. I can give you the name of my solicitor if that is of any help? If you want to get things going with the divorce or if you want some kind of formal separation then go ahead. And if you’re worried about what I might try and claim then don’t. I know I’ll be advised to go for half of everything but, to be honest, that doesn’t seem fair. You had that house long before I came along and I took everything I wanted with me when I left. Rowena has left me well set up so I won’t be bothering you for maintenance.
I’m sorry if this has made things difficult for you with Henry, but you understand each other well enough to sort it out I’m sure.
I don’t know exactly how these things work but you should be free of me soon. I’m sorry that things have not worked out and I hope you can forgive me.
Best Wishes,
Imogen.
She added details of the solicitor who had dealt with Rowena’s estate on a separate sheet of paper. With luck that would be an end of it.

Cherith turned the radio up and tapped her thumbs on the steering wheel in time to the music, this was almost fun. If she could just stop herself thinking about Henry she might find herself enjoying it. She liked driving, always had, but she didn’t get to do it on this scale that often. Henry liked to do the driving whenever they went on holiday or trips and, if she was honest, she was happy to let him. She had driven him a few times when he broke his ankle, how anyone can break their ankle playing golf was beyond her but he had managed to. He had been confined to the passenger seat for four weeks and Cherith counted down every day until he could drive himself again. On more than one occasion she had come so close to stopping the car and kicking him out. She had had to grip the steering wheel so hard she thought she might become attached to it. If she wasn’t getting too close then she was not keeping up with the traffic. If she wasn’t going to fast then she was too slow. She stuck it for the first two weeks and then rang for a taxi every time he wanted to go anywhere. By the time the plaster came off she had been through every taxi firm in the yellow pages. The first time he took the car out by himself she allowed herself an extra biscuit with her tea to celebrate. So most of her driving was confined to trips to the shops or to friends. Now she had three hundred miles all to herself.

Imogen picked Boris up from the armchair and carried him out to the garage. She plonked him in the basket of the bike.
‘Meow!!’
‘Don’t start. You need the fresh air. And so do I. And we have to get milk, post a letter and get things ready for mum. You’ll like mum. Now sit still.’ Something in her tone told Boris not to argue so he settled himself down.
Imogen peddled hard until she picked up as much speed as she could. The wind on her face almost made her eyes water and caught at her breath, it felt fantastic. By the time she started to slow down into the village her whole face was tingling and she was out of breath. She didn’t want to stop. She wanted to carry on for ever. She got the milk, bread, cat food and tea in record time and turned the bike for home. She was going gently uphill on the way home so she was unable to get such a speed up again. It was probably for the best. Instead she settled to a gentler pace and took in the landscape. She had been there weeks now and did this ride at least three times a week, but it still took her by surprise. It was just so beautiful. You couldn’t have a big fast car down here. It would be an insult to the views that demanded to be looked at. Everything about life here demanded you took your time; they wouldn’t have broadband for at least another year. You couldn’t rush if you tried. Stress was a word rarely used and everything would be done ‘dreckly.’ It was what Rowena had left London for all those years ago. And what hundreds still moved down here for. There was a smug feeling to be had when you saw all the holiday makers going off home on a Saturday morning, knowing you were staying for good. Imogen was starting to know that feeling. She would see the latest batch of ’grockles’ in the post office buying their postcards and smile to herself. Never again would she have that sinking feeling on the Friday night knowing she was going back to London on the morning train. If she wanted she could stay here for the rest of her life. This thought calmed her down and she slowed the bike to Cornwall speed. Boris, who had been fidgeting and meowing in objection, now tucked himself up for the rest of the way home.

James stood staring out of the bedroom window, he was still in his pyjama bottoms. All night he had bee thinking about the possibility of starting up on his own. It began as a means of stopping himself thinking about Imogen, who still hadn’t called back. Now it was taking hold as a thought on its own. It had been a flippant remark on Olwen’s part but it wasn’t such a flippant idea. He hadn’t spoken to Henry since he told him to go to hell so he was assuming he no longer had a job. That was fine, but he couldn’t not work. He knew some men of his age who had already retired, as could he from a financial point of view, but he knew it would drive him mad. He saw one of those early-retired men from time to time and he didn’t recognise him. What had once been a fit, good looking and vibrant man was now a bath sponge, soft and not very interesting. James had no intention of becoming a bath sponge just yet. He had another twenty years before he reached the statutory retiring age, and he fully intended to go on well beyond that. He would die at his desk if he could, or he would have done once. Now he was not so sure about going on until he dropped, but he did want to go on for a while longer. It would take a lot of organizing though wouldn’t it? Although maybe he could do it from home. If he hired offices that would be rubbing Henry’s nose in it. That might not be such a bad thing but it might not be worth the hassle. Good God what was happening to him, suddenly worrying about what Henry might or might not think. Offices would look more professional, but working from home would be more flexible. Well standing in his jammies at lunchtime was not going to get anything sorted.
Fully dressed in the study James sat at the desk and went through his address book. He highlighted about a dozen clients he was sure would leave Henry and move on with him. On the second run through of the book he noticed that ninety five percent of the entries were business. He came to an entry for a chap who had once been a good friend. What had happened to him? He thought for a moment, trying to think how long it had been since they were last in touch. It must be five years, he was at the wedding, why they had lost touch he had no idea. He had punched the number in before he had really thought about what he was doing. It was unlikely he would still be on this number anyway.
‘Hello?’
The familiar voice made James jump. ‘Oh… Hello. Clive?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s James. James Lampress.’
‘Good God! I thought you were dead.’
‘Not quite yet.’ He gave a funny laugh, which he had never heard himself do before.
‘So how are you?’ Clive still sounded like Clive, but there was something different in his voice.
‘Well. Thank you. And you?’
‘Good, good. And how’s that lovely wife of yours?’ What was her name? Pretty though, good cook to.’
‘Imogen…Umm ok. She’s in Cornwall at the moment.’ Well it wasn’t a lie.
‘Very nice to.’ Clive had spotted the umm and was already putting two and two together. ‘So to what do I owe this honour? It’s been years you miserable bugger. I was wondering what I’d done to piss you off.’
‘You didn’t do anything, I don’t think. I was calling because it has been so long. I was wondering what you were up to these days?’
‘Retired old chap, about a year ago.’
‘But you’re only…?’
‘Forty nine.’
‘It seems to be happening a lot.’ James shook his head.
‘Best thing I ever did. I know it’s a cliché but I don’t know how I ever found the time to work. You should try it.’
So that was why he sounded different, James thought, the stress had gone out of his voice. ‘What brought all that on then?’
‘Maggie was fed up with never seeing me. And I was getting fed up with her getting fed up. Then Sara went off to America. She got such a good degree that she could have had her pick of jobs. But she fancied the states. Once she left I realised just how much I didn’t know about her. My own daughter and I hardly knew her. She kept emailing, telling us how fantastic it was out there and asking us to go and visit. I couldn’t remember the last time we had a holiday together.’
‘Sounds familiar.’
‘Exactly. Eventually she and Maggie ganged up on me and we went. Big mistake. As soon as I took two weeks off that was it. When I came back I couldn’t settle. Six months later they sent a memo round asking for people to take early retirement. I didn’t need asking twice. With the settlement we bought a little ‘apartment’ near to Sara and a cottage in Sussex, sorted.’
‘Nice life if you can get it!’
‘Very nice. So what about you? Still with Henry?’
‘No, I don’t think so. I mean I’m thinking about going it alone.’
‘Good for you. Rather you than me, but why not?’
‘Well it’s only a though at the moment.’
‘Don’t think too long is my advice. When an opportunity comes along you take it, first rule of business remember?’
‘I don’t think I will ever forget it.’ James gave a chuckle through a grimace. It was something Henry had drummed into everyone who came to work for him, one of his mantras. ‘If someone’s stupid enough to let his guard down, get the knife in quick. Don’t wait, don’t think, it’s all about impulse.’ It was irritating to admit that the last part was true.
‘I tell you what. We’re having a barbeque on Sunday. Why don’t you come over? Maggie would love to see you I’m sure. And it would be good to catch up.’
‘That would be good, thank you.’
‘Ok then, see you Sunday.’
‘See you Sunday.’
James put the phone down on Clive and immediately started drafting two letters. His official letter of resignation and a letter to send out to all the names on his list. Telling them all about his new company.

The gate squeaking told Imogen her mother had arrived. She went out into the garden and met her coming up the path. They threw their arms around each other. She had been worried about seeing Cherith. She knew her mother had every right to be angry for all she said she was not.
‘Look at you!’ Cherith stood back a little and took a good look at her daughter. ‘You’ve changed so much! You have a tan. I’ve never seen you with a tan. It suits you. And your hair, so blonde! All that sun on it I suppose. And what are you wearing? New clothes too. Still I don’t suppose Prada is really appropriate anymore. You look lovely.’
‘Thank you.’ Imogen took the opportunity to give her mother a good look over to. She was not looking so good. She looked tired. It had been a long journey, but it was more than that. She was thinner. She was still the epitome of the term ‘smart casual’ and her hair and make-up were immaculate as always, but she had aged since Imogen saw her last. She smiled and gave her mother another hug.
‘Come in. I’ll make tea.’
‘Lovely. I’m exhausted. I’ve never driven that far on my own before.’ Cherith put her hand up to her hair and gave it a little pat. Then she smoothed her cream linen trousers down, although she was sure they would never recover from six hours in the car.
‘So how are you darling?’ Cherith asked as she sat down at the kitchen table. She watched Imogen moving around the kitchen as if she had always been there. The last time she had been in this kitchen it was Rowena who had been busying about making tea. Imogen looked more relaxed than she had ever done in that huge kitchen in London, and Cherith noticed that the teapot was being brought out especially.
‘Well. Better than I thought I would be.’ Imogen replied.
‘You seem very settled.’
‘I am. I love it here.’
Cherith grimaced a little. ‘We should never have stopped you coming, I’m sorry.’
‘Well I could have started coming down on my own once I could drive couldn’t I? But I didn’t. It’s not your fault mum.’
‘So you keep saying. Oh well we’ll agree to differ shall we?’
‘Fair enough. So how was the journey?’
‘Not too bad actually. I was quite surprised at myself. I was scared to death for the first fifty miles, but once I got used to not having your father barking directions I started to quite enjoy it.’
‘How is dad?’ She wanted to get the question out of the way.
‘You father is your father, what more can I say? He went off quite happily this morning. His planet has been bumped and he’s cross that’s all. He’ll make everything revolve around himself again and things will go back to normal. He’ll brood about it from time to time I dare say, but he’ll get over it.’
‘When’s he home?’
‘Day after tomorrow. All hell will break out then I’m afraid. Or maybe not, he might supprise us.’ They looked at each other.
‘All hell will break out.’ They said together. Then they burst out laughing.
‘Oh dear, poor Henry. He really doesn’t understand why no one is playing his game anymore.’
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Boris came in and had a good look at the visitor. He came in slowly and went up to Cherith. He jumped up on the table and sat looking at the two women. Then he went up to Cherith and bumped his head against her cheek.
‘Hello.’ Cherith gave him a tickle behind his ear and he started to purr.
‘This is Boris. He came with the house.’
‘He’s adorable.’
‘And he knows it.’
Boris turned and gave Imogene a ‘who pulled your chain’ look.
‘Hello!! Are you there?’ Molly’s voice came through the sitting room windows, closely followed by Molly herself. Imogen was a little disconcerted to begin with. She had never seen Molly without Eleanor before. She knew they lived their own lives but they also did such a lot together, especially gang up on her. Thinking about Philip made her blush. Then she remembered she hadn’t asked Molly not to mention him to Cherith. This could become embarrassing.
‘Hi Molly. Mum you remember Molly?’ She squeaked.
‘Of course I do. Hello.’ They gave each other a little peck on the cheek and Molly sat down to join them.
‘No Eleanor today?’ Imogen asked.
‘She’s gone into Truro shopping. Not proper shopping, or I may have gone with her, but Sainsbury’s.’ Molly pulled a face to indicate her disapproval of supermarkets. ‘Did you have a good journey Cherith?’
‘Yes thank you, I did.’
‘I bet the traffic here feels a bit different to London?’
‘Oh yes I’ll say! It took as long to get out of London as it did to do the last seventy miles or so.’
‘I can quite believe it.’
They would carry on like this all day, Imogen thought. She was glad they were getting on. Mind you it was just as well if Cherith was going to stay with Molly.
‘Have you thought about what it is you might like?’ Molly asked.
‘Sorry?’ Cherith didn’t quite understand the question.
‘Your bequest.’
‘Oh I see. No I’ve no idea. It will have to be something Imogen will let me have.’ She gave a light laugh.
It was a good job Eleanor wasn’t here, she would be bound to make some comment about Cherith not wanting to take Philip home as he was spoken for. There, she’d done it again, and she was blushing again. She turned away in case Molly should see her.
‘So do you want to come back with me now or have you got plans?’
‘I don’t know.’ Cherith looked across at Imogen.
‘I don’t mind. You can come back over later.’
‘Yes, I’ll do that. I’ll come with you now then Molly, if I may.’
Imogen walked them down the garden path and watched as they carried on chatting, without letup, while getting into their cars. They would still be going if they could. Imogen could imagine a bizarre kind of CB system so that they could carry on.
As she turned to go back up to the cottage she saw Philip lurking by the farm gate. When he was sure she had seen him he came out into the lane.
‘Do you make a habit of skulking in hedgerows?’ She laughed.
‘Only when there are beautiful women around.’ he grinned.
‘Oh that’s awful.’
‘But you’ll kiss me anyway won’t you?’
‘Probably.’
And he was right.
‘So what brings you here?’ She asked when she had finally put him down.
‘I can’t remember now.’
She gave him a light shove on the arm.
‘Oh yes. It was to tell you Mr T needs to turn the water off for a couple of hours tomorrow morning.’
‘Oh.’ So it wasn’t to see her then. For some reason she felt disappointed, which was stupid.
‘He was going to pop a note in the post box on his dog walk tonight, but I said I’d pop over and tell you.’ He grinned.
She couldn’t help the smile that sprang across her face. She should know better by now.
‘Have you got time for a cuppa?’
‘Oh I should think so. What is it about you Brits and tea? Mrs T is always saying it’s time to put the kettle on, then Mr T tells her it won’t suit her and they laugh as if it’s the first time he had said it. Sweet really.’
‘I was amazed how they hadn’t changed. I think they’ve been like that forever and will always be, for eternity. He used to tell that joke when I was a little girl, and I admit I always laughed.’
‘You hear of people like that. People that have been together forever and you can’t imagine them without each other, never thought I’d ever meet some though.’ Philip hopped up onto the kitchen table and started swinging his legs. I used to do that when I was little, Imogen thought.
‘Doesn’t happen these days. Their generation married for life no matter what. These days we clear off to Cornwall after six years.’ Imogen said.
‘The Tragowen’s are the exception. There are a lot more of their generation who would have left after less than six years if they could’ve. There was this couple down our street back home. Both in their eighties, married for sixty years. They hadn’t spoken for forty of them, so they say. But they weren’t happy, that was for sure. You never saw them together and they had a fence dividing the garden so they didn’t have to sit outside together. That’s no life. These days they would’ve divorced and gone on to have happy lives with other people. When it’s gone wrong it’s gone wrong.’
‘I know. He wants to come down and see me. There was a message on the machine.’
‘You didn’t say.’ He sounded hurt.
‘I only found it this morning. I wanted to tell you as soon as I found it. In fact my first thought was wanting mum. But she was travelling and you were working and I couldn’t come and disturb you…’
‘You can come and find me whenever you need me.’ He snatched hold of her hands and gave them a hard squeeze.
‘I know. But I didn’t know where you would be this morning. So I wrote back to him telling him no. I made the decision and I did something about it, on my own.’ She couldn’t help smiling, she was starting to feel rather proud of herself. All this making decisions was rather liberating and she was getting rather used to it.
‘Good on ya.’ He kissed her.
‘Well if I can handle that dam mower then I can do anything can’t I?’
‘Bloody right. Talking of which it’s about time it was done again, the grass I mean.’ He nodded towards the garden.
‘I’ll decide when to cut the grass thank you very much.’ She gave a theatrical toss of the head and poured the tea.
Philip watched her and thought his heart might burst, ‘that’s my girl,’ he whispered to himself.