tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56374932782759295582024-03-08T12:29:17.638-08:00Writing not Readingclaire phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16313963622279623204noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5637493278275929558.post-34821124645607187342009-03-25T12:27:00.000-07:002009-03-25T12:31:04.435-07:00Mulberry Gin the final chapters.Chapter Nineteen.<br /><br />Imogen was making the bed when she saw Cherith and Henry coming up the garden path. Yesterday had been hard and she was hoping to have a day off. It seemed she was not going to get it. She went through to the sitting room and opened the French windows.<br />‘Hello.’ She stood in the widows and wondered what was going to be coming her way. Her father didn’t look like he was in one of his moods, but you could never quite tell. Her mother looked happy, properly happy, though.<br />‘Morning darling.’ Cherith threw her arms around Imogen and gave her a big hug.<br />‘Morning. What brings you here this early? Nothing wrong is there?’ She glanced from one to the other.<br />‘Not at all. We’ve come to say goodbye.’<br />‘We’re going back to London.’ Henry added. He was still not looking directly at his daughter.<br />‘That’s good.’ Imogen turned to Cherith. ‘Is it good?’<br />‘Yes it is. We’ve been talking and we’ve sorted a few things out. Let’s just say I think things will be a little different from now on.’ Cherith gave Imogen’s hand a little squeeze.<br />‘I’m glad.’ She turned to Henry. ‘Hello dad. Are you going to talk to me at all?’<br />Henry lifted his head and straightened his back. ‘I had a lot of thing I wanted to say to you young lady.’ He gave Cherith a sideways glance. ‘On reflection, though, I think it would be better if we put the past behind us.’<br />Cherith gave a forced chough.<br />‘Yes…well. There is one thing I do have to say.’<br />The two women stood in expectation while Henry fidgeted.<br />‘I’m sorry Imogen.’ He said at last. ‘I did not behave very well over the whole James thing. I made some bad decisions. I’m sorry if they have impacted badly on you, or made you unhappy at all.’ There, he had said his piece. He took a slight step back and waited.<br />‘Thank you dad, I appreciate that.’ She stepped forward and gave him a hug. He stiffened a little, but he put his arms around her shoulders.<br />‘So.’ Imogen said stepping back onto the patio. ‘Are you off today?’<br />‘In a minuet, yes. The car’s are all packed.’<br />‘Yes I suppose you’re going to have to travel in convoy.’<br />‘We are. And I’m leading.’ Cherith said with a smile.<br />Henry gave something that approached a smile. He wasn’t at all keen on the idea. He had an opinion on women drivers, which he decided might not be welcome right now. He would see how it went. He was going to have to see how a lot of thing went from now on. Cherith had said a lot of things over the past day, things that he was not at all comfortable hearing. He was feeling decidedly bruised. Still the verbal hand bagging had been good for him. Last night he had cried for the first time in fifty years, more probably. There was so much that he had been keeping back for so long. He told Cherith how much he had missed her and how scared he had been that she might not come back. He told her about the bullying he had gone through at school, something he had never told anyone before. He told her about creeping into Imogen’s room when Cherith was sleeping. In turn she gave him hell about his interference with James.<br />Imogen was the only one who had never given him a hard time about it. When he pointed that out Cherith had said it was because Imogen was scared of him. That had hurt. He knew there had been a distance opening up between him and Imogen, but to be scared of him? That was terrible. Had he really been such a bad father? All he had ever tried to do was protect her from things that might hurt her or cause her trouble. That was why he had to get her away from Rowena. His sister was too far beyond everything that he wanted for his daughter. He saw how close they were and he was jealous. But he was also scared for her. Rowena’s life looked romantic and appealing from the outside, but he had seen what their parents had been through, how worried they were for her. And she had died alone in the end hadn’t she? There were friends, but no one really special, no one whose life would be devastated by her death. He didn’t want that for Imogen. He wanted her to be loved and cherished and looked after. The trouble was he had gone about it the wrong way. He had tried to force all that on her rather that letting her find it for herself. He had never seen it like that until Cherith pointed it out. James kept going on about him selling Imogen, which he had taken great offence at. But Cherith had made him look at it from the outside. It had gone quite spectacularly wrong. He said he would put it right, but Cherith said to leave them alone. She said that the best thing he could do was apologise to them and let them get on with it. If they got back together it had to be their decision. If they didn’t then they needed to be there for Imogen, but only if she wanted them. He had to accept that his little girl had grown up now and had to make her own mistakes.<br />Now he watched his only child moving about what was now her house. She was so at home, so settled and he hated himself for stopping her from coming here. Maybe if he had let her keep coming then things would be different now. It was no good going down that path. You could what if all day. Whatever had gone before she seemed happy now, alone but happy. It was not the life he had chosen for her, but it was the life she had chosen for herself. He had to accept that. However much he might want to he couldn’t control everyone and everything. It was just a shame that it had taken seventy years to realise it. Maybe it was too late for him to be happy himself, but he could try his hardest to make sure Cherith and Imogen were.<br />They sat in the kitchen drinking tea and eating toast. Henry made no comment when Imogen set a pottery mug down in front of him.<br />‘So how did last night go?’ Cherith asked.<br />‘Quite well actually. He has changed. I thought his name might be poison at the moment.’ Imogen glanced at Henry.<br />‘I can’t say I’m happy at the way he had gone about this new enterprise of his. I might have been better if he had talked to me about his plans. But it’s done now. I’m sure, one day, we will be able to be friends again.’ He tried another smile.<br />‘Just don’t let him rush you into making any decisions you’re not happy with.’ Cherith said.<br />‘No. Not this time.’ She couldn’t help a quick glance at Henry.<br />Henry looked at his watch. ‘I think we should be getting on.’<br />‘Oh.’ Cherith looked at her own watch. ‘Yes I suppose we should. Oh darling are you going to be all right?’<br />‘I’ll be fine mum. Honestly I will.’ She could see the look on her mother’s face. ‘I know were you are.’<br />‘Call me whenever you want to.’<br />‘I will.’<br />They stood up and went out to the patio. Imogen gave them each a hug.<br />‘I love you darling.’ Henry whispered into her hair.<br />‘I love you too dad.’ She whispered back.<br />She stood and watched them until they disappeared around the corner in the path. She stayed on the patio until she heard the gate squeak. She was glad they were going back to London together. When Cherith had first arrived Imogen had been worried it meant she had left him. She knew it made her a hypocrite, but she hated the thought that her parents might separate. It was ok for her to leave James, but somehow not ok for Cherith to leave Henry.<br />Ok, so now her parents were on their way home. Maybe she could have her peaceful day.<br /><br />Well her day might have been quiet after Henry and Cherith left, but it wasn’t peaceful. She tried weeding, she tried ironing, she tried gong for a walk along the cliffs. Nothing worked. All day her head had been buzzing with confused thoughts. In the morning she was going to drive Philip to the airport and say goodbye to him, probably forever. That was going to be hard enough. On top of that there was James waiting at the hotel to call her. She said to give her a couple of days, she hoped, this time, he would respect that. Although he said he was happy to wait for her to be sure of what she wanted before she gave him any decision, she knew he was waiting. That made it more urgent. It might not be such a bad thing. It would make her think about it properly. But she was afraid of making the wrong one again. It was vital for both of them that they were both sure this time. A week ago she thought she knew what she wanted, divorce. But that had been a knee jerk reaction. It was what people in their part of the world did when they were unhappy. There weren’t many people she knew back in London that hadn’t been divorced at least once. She thought she had left her London mindset behind, but maybe it would never leave her. One thing Cornwall had taught her was to take her time. That was exactly what she was going to do.<br />She spent the day mulling over the various options. She could stay here and James could go back to London. She could go back with him and they could go back to the old life. She could go back with him and they could do as he suggested and move to the counties. And then there were the option Philip had suggested, that she go back to London but not back to James. She could rent a flat near his new office and come down here at weekends. And then there was another option that was starting to form in her mind.<br /><br />The next morning she was up early. Philip’s flight wasn’t until three but they had to drive to Exeter. He was only flying as far as Heathrow from there, but it was quicker than driving. He wasn’t flying home to Australia until tonight, but their time together would end at Exeter. It was a long drive though and they needed to make an early start. All the extra security these days meant he had to be there in plenty of time before the flight.<br />‘Hi.’ Philip was bang on time. He stood on the patio with the cartoon-sized rucksack; one false move and he would turn into a beetle on his back unable to get up.<br />‘Are you ok with that?’<br />‘Oh yeah. This has been everywhere with me.’<br />‘Ready then?’<br />‘As I’ll ever be.’<br />They loaded the rucksack into the back seat of the beetle; it wouldn’t go in to boot.<br />‘How was it with James?’<br />‘Ok. I was pleasantly surprised I have to say. He said a lot of things. I said a lot of things. We’re not there yet, wherever there is, but we’re on the way.’<br />‘That’s good.’<br />‘Yes. The idea of divorce is on hold for now anyway. He’s still here though. I don’t know how long he’s staying. I told him I needed a couple of days.’<br />‘He’s not putting any pressure on you is he?’ Philip frowned.<br />‘No. Don’t worry I’m not falling for that again. I’ve listened to you. I’m going to think about it and then talk to him about it, then think about it some more.’<br /><br />The check in was deserted when they got there and they had plenty of time. They decided to go a get coffee. It was a delaying tactic. They both new that as soon as he had checked in he would have to go through security to the departure lounge, never to be seen again. Exeter was a small airport and a private goodbye was not going to be an option. Instead they sat in the little coffee shop and watched the slow drip of people arrive and take their place in the queue.<br />‘You’ll have to join the queue soon.’ Imogen nodded to the ever growing line of people snaking around the check in desks.<br />‘I will. In a minuet. I want to look at you for a bit longer first.’<br />Imogen felt herself blush. She still hadn’t got used to his openness.<br />The moment came and Philip got up and grappled with his rucksack. They wandered over to the queue and joined it. She moved along with him and watched as he eventually handed his documents over to the nice girl behind the desk. This was it then, he really was going. All summer this moment had been hanging over them. Now it was here it wasn’t anything like she had been imagining. He stood at one side of the check in desks with his turtle shell rucksack. Security was just a few steps away.<br />‘This is it then.’ She said.<br />‘This is it.’<br />He slipped the rucksack off his back and pulled her to him. He kissed her. She slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.<br />‘I’m going to miss you so much.’ He said at last.<br />‘I’ll miss you to.’<br />‘I haven’t told you this because I didn’t think it would be helpful. I’ve fallen in love with you Gin.’<br />‘Oh Philip…’<br />‘It’s ok. I needed you to know before I went.’<br />‘I’m sorry.’<br />‘Don’t be. I knew you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it if I told you before. And I didn’t want you to feel guilty. I’ll never forget you. Even if I end up married with a dozen kids there will always be a part of me that will be yours. Promise me that if you ever need anything you’ll call me. I’ll fly back anytime. Call me anyway, now and again?’<br />‘Of course I will.’ She felt the tears pricking at the back of her eyes.<br />‘Make him deserve you.’<br />‘I will.’ The tears were running down their cheeks now.<br />‘Goodbye Imogen Lampress.’ He hugged her close and breathed in a last scent of her.<br />‘Goodbye.’ She wiped her eyes and watched him disappear through security. He would be here a couple of hours yet, but as far as she was concerned he was gone. There was nothing to hang around for, no point in trying to wait and watch his plane leave. She turned and went back to the car.<br /><br /><br /><br />Chapter Twenty.<br /><br />Imogen lay in bed and watched the curtains hovering in the breeze from the open windows. It was the end of September but it was still just warm enough to sleep with the windows open. She could never do this in London. Even though they lived in the suburbs at the end of a long drive, it was still too noisy. She tried to remember the last time she had heard a siren. It was weeks ago. She was in town doing some shopping when an ambulance screamed past. It had made her jump and she stopped and stared as if she hadn’t ever seen one before. Back in London they were so common you just stopped hearing them.<br />Now she lay there and listened to the silence. There were the birds, the rustle of the trees, the swish of the curtains and Boris purring, and that was all. She closed her eyes and wished her life was as peaceful. Yesterday she had said goodbye to Philip, today she would have to call James. It wasn’t fair to let him dangle there in that hotel. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine the future. If she imagined herself in a years time where was she and what was she doing? She couldn’t imagine herself back in London, but she couldn’t imagine James living here either. This wasn’t a house for more than one person. She was only in her mid twenties, there was every possibility she would soon want children. There was no way she could raise a family here with only one bedroom. Maybe she could extend, but that would kill the character of the place. There was another option she had been mulling over, but she wasn’t sure James would go for it. She screwed her eyes up. This was all so far in the future and so vague. It wasn’t helpful to think like this. She needed to focus on the next few weeks.<br />A lot could happen in a year. Things she could never plan for. Rowena always told her to go with whatever was flowing, to only bother worrying about things you can change. They were clichés but they were also true. What did she want right now? That was what she needed to think about. Whatever decision she made she couldn’t be sure it was the right one, no one ever does. Only time would tell her that. She had taken a big chance walking out and coming here. That could have gone very wrong, but it hadn’t. She had been so happy this summer. She had learnt a lot about herself and about what she wanted in life. She wanted to carry on being this happy. Then James had appeared to threaten that happiness, or so she had first thought. As soon as she saw him she thought the rug was about to be rudely pulled out from under her. It was true he had given the edge of the rug a little tug, but so far it was still there.<br />She wanted to believe he had changed as much as he seemed to. She wanted to believe they could find a way forward. If he could show her, prove to her, that he was a different person now than there might be a future for them. There would have to be conditions, there would have to be a safety net this time. It would be only too easy for James to get caught up in this new business and for things to go back to the way they were, whatever his intentions. She would have to make it clear to him that she wasn’t prepared to go back to that.<br />Well it was all very well laying here thinking about it. She needed to get up and do something. Boris objected when she moved the leg he was lying on. He stretched and jumped off the bed. Imogen followed him into the kitchen.<br />‘We’ll have breakfast first Boris. I’ll call him in a bit.’<br />‘Meow.’<br />‘Good, we agree then.’ She got them both breakfast. She took hers into the sitting room.<br />After a while Boris wandered through and gave her a look.<br />‘I know. But I’ll shower and get dressed first. I’ll call him then.’<br />‘Meow.’<br />‘You know it’s amazing how we seem to think the same things.’ She wandered into the bathroom and showered. Then she took her time deciding what to wear. Boris came and jumped onto the bed.<br />‘Meow.’ He sounded more forceful this time.<br />‘Yes I will call him. I said I will and I will.’<br />‘Meow.’ Boris jumped off the bed and went and sat by the phone.<br />‘Oh you’re subtle.’ She laughed.<br />Eventually she was dressed and back in the sitting room.<br />‘Look.’ she said to Boris. ‘I’m picking up the phone.’<br />Boris sniffed and went out into the garden. ‘I’ll give you some privacy then.’<br />‘Thank you.’<br /><br />‘Hello?’ James answered on the second ring.<br />‘Hello James.’<br />‘Hello. How are you?’<br />‘Fine thank you.’<br />‘Good. That’s good.’<br />‘I was wondering if you were busy today?’<br />‘Not busy at all.’ He was sitting in his room staring out of the window. He had been waiting for her to call all morning. He had been up at six, dressed and ready by half past.<br />‘Would you like to come over for lunch? About one?’<br />‘I’d love to, thank you. Can I bring anything?’<br />‘Some wine if you like, you always choose good wine.’<br />‘Thank you. All right then. I’ll see you at one.’<br />‘See you later.’<br /><br />The patio table was set. Imogen had found Rowena’s best linen in the cupboard and given it an iron. It was lovely, pale blue with pink roses embroidered all over and matching napkins. She had got the best glasses out and given them a wash, and the best china. She spent the rest of the morning cooking. Now there was a chicken roasting in the oven, a salad waiting to be dressed and syllabub in the fridge. She had even been to the village and got some Stilton, which she hated, because she knew it was James’ favourite. He was bringing the wine, so there was nothing more to do but wait. She rather wished she had got the wine, then she could have a couple of glasses.<br />The gate squeaked. Here we go.<br />‘Hello.’ She smiled as he came around the corner.<br />‘Hello. You look lovely.’<br />‘Thank you.’<br />‘This is for you.’ He handed her a box with three bottles of wine in it. ‘I thought I’d bring a selection.’<br />‘Lovely, thank you. Come through.’ She took the wine through to the kitchen.<br />‘It’s a nice little place isn’t it? Cosy.’ He looked about. It was tiny, very different to their London house. He tried to imagine himself there.<br />‘I love it, really love it. I always did. When I was a little girl I used to imagine what it would be like to live here myself.’<br />‘And is it what you imagined?’<br />‘Oh yes.’ She took the wine out of the box. One red, one white and one sparkling. ‘Which one would you like?’<br />‘I’ll leave that up to you.’ James said deflated, if she loved it here that much then what were his chances of getting her to leave.<br />‘We’re having chicken so I’ll open the white.’ She poured them both a glass. ‘So how’s the hotel?’<br />‘Not bad. It’s in a lovely spot though, isn’t it? Nice views.’<br />‘Yes it’s a nice town. Getting very popular with second homers. House prices there have gone though the roof.’<br />‘I can see the appeal.’<br />‘But it doesn’t appeal to you?’<br />‘It could do. If there was a reason for me being there.’ He looked across at her, his eyes pleading.<br />‘Lunch is about ready. Would you take the salad out while I deal with the chicken?’<br />‘Sure.’ James sighed and took the bowl she offered him.<br /><br />Lunch was more relaxed than she had thought. James used to be so formal on these sorts of occasions. It was why she had made such an effort with the table. Instead he was leaning back in his chair, his ankles crossed, still no tie. And no jacket today either. His shirt was still expensive and properly pressed as were his trousers. And his shoes were still the hand made Italian ones he had always favoured, but he had a more laid back look about him now.<br />‘That was fabulous. You always did know how to roast a chicken.’ He stretched and laid his napkin on the table.<br />‘Thank you. I’ve got some Stilton as well if you’re interested?’<br />‘Better and better.’<br />Imogen took their dishes into the kitchen and made coffee. Looking through the open door out to the garden she could see him sitting there looking about. He was tapping his foot against the table leg and twisting the end of his napkin around in his fingers. She loaded the tray and took it out to him. As soon as he heard her coming he stopped tapping his foot and put the napkin down.<br />‘I’m sorry Imogen but I have to ask…’<br />‘I know,’ she interrupted him. ‘I have been doing a lot of thinking.’<br />‘So have I.’ He sat forward. ‘I know what you said about us changing, that I might not want you now. But I haven’t been able to think about anything but you since the other night. I…I love you. I promised not to put pressure on you, and I won’t. But I need you to know that I haven’t changed my mind, I’ll never change my mind about you.’ He looked across at her expectantly.<br />Imogen was stunned. He had said it, actually said it. And he sounded like he meant it.<br />‘I’ve been thinking about us a lot too. I‘m not going to lie to you James. I‘m not sure I can say the same, but I hope I might one day. I love it here and I don’t want to move back to London, not permanently. I know this is not big enough for more than one person to live in comfortably. It would break my heart to sell this place though.’ She looked around the garden to the Mulberry tree.<br />‘I’d never ask you to do that.’ He was disappointed. He hadn’t expected her to fling herself at him, but there was a part of him that hoped she might. Still she hadn’t dismissed him or laughed at him.<br />‘I’ll put the London house on the market as soon as I get back. I’ll buy something out of town, you choose. I can get to London quite easily from lots of nice places. Oxfordshire, the Cotswolds.’<br />‘Do you have to be in London?’<br />The question threw him.<br />‘Well yes…I mean the business…the office is in the city.’ He frowned.<br />‘I know but do you have to be there all the time? You said Flora was holding the fort this week. Can she not take on more of the day-to-day stuff? I mean how much of it do you yourself actually need to be there for?’ The other option, the one that had come to her the other day, had been going around and around. Now she needed to know if it really was an option. If it wasn’t she wasn’t sure what else was left.<br />‘Well…’ James sat and thought. ‘There are actual face-to-face meetings of course. Phone calls. Emails to deal with, but I can do those anywhere. And the meetings can be done anywhere if you think about it. As long as I have a lap top and a web cam.’ A thought was forming in his mind. ‘I could set things up so that I only needed to be in the office in person one or two days a week.’ He was getting excited as his thoughts started to gain shape. ‘I could take someone else on to help Flora. There’s lots of new technology around these days.’<br />‘So really you could work from anywhere in the country and go back to London now and again?’ She prompted.<br />‘Yes. Yes I could. If I sold the house I could buy somewhere else anywhere. I could buy something around here. And I bet there’s somewhere in town I could rent as an office, if I needed one.’<br />‘I expect so.’ She smiled.<br />‘Would you…’ he paused.<br />‘Yes?’ It was her turn to lean forward.<br />‘Would you think it a good idea for me to look around for somewhere here? Do you think you could find somewhere you liked that wasn’t this place? I could live there and maybe keep a little flat in the city for the odd couple of days a week.’<br />‘It would be a lot of travelling.’ She prompted. She needed him to be sure.<br />‘True. But it would be worth it if I could be near you. We could, maybe, spend some proper time together, see how we get on? It might even be possible to relocate down here. Eventually.’ He had a huge grin across his face when he thought about this new plan. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? These days it was perfectly possible to run a business without being in the office eight hours a day five days a week. As long as he kept himself on the radar. Could it work?<br />‘I think that all sound like the start of a plan.’<br />‘I think you might be right.’ He saw them walking on the cliffs, finding new, special places. He knew that if he took things slowly he could win her back. She was obviously keen on the idea of him spending more time here. It might be tempting fate, he knew, but he dared to think that one day he might, after all, be able to put that eternity ring on her finger.<br /><br /><div align="center">The End.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="left">That's it folks. Thank you for reading and for all your kind commnets.</div>claire phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16313963622279623204noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5637493278275929558.post-65534374782031246082009-03-16T06:05:00.000-07:002009-03-16T06:06:34.071-07:00Mulberry Gin Chapters 17 & 18Chapter Seventeen.<br /><br />The new office was better than James could have hoped. Already Flora had set everything up and it looked like they had been there for years. Clients were impressed and word had gotten round. Now he was having to turn people away. It was better than he could have dreamed. But it was more work than he had imagined. He got in at eight and left after midnight most days, at least at home he could collapse in a heap and have a nap if he needed to. Still Flora was proving to be a Godsend.<br />He yarned and stretched. ‘Go home.’ He called through to Flora.<br />‘In a minute, I want to finish this filing.’<br />‘It’ll still be there in the morning.’<br />‘That’s what I’m afraid of.’<br />‘Well I’m going. Will you lock up?’ He pulled on his coat and looked at his watch, one am. ‘Don’t stay to long.’ He told her, knowing she would take no notice and stay as long as she felt she needed to.<br /><br />In the study he sorted through his post and flicked on the answer machine. He was enjoying himself so much he wondered why he hadn’t done it years ago.<br />There was nothing in the post of much immediate interest and he was about to dump it on the desk when he saw a cream envelope with a handwritten address. It was addressed to Mr and Mrs Lampress. He frowned and tried to recognise the handwriting. He turned it over and slit it open.<br />Inside was an anniversary card. It was from an old school friend of Imogen’s who had been at the wedding. James blinked hard and tried to make a mental calculation. He looked across at the date on the day’s paper. Shit. Tomorrow was their seventh wedding anniversary.<br />‘Fuck!’ He exclaimed. He had promised himself he would not forget it this year. Ok James think, what could he do? Nothing at this time of night, nothing would get there in time. He had intended being in Cornwall to celebrate with Imogen in person, he should have been there two weeks ago. This was not the way it was supposed to be this time. The whole point of setting up on his own was to have more time and be more flexible. He’d done it again. He sighed and slumped in the chair. All this effort to create a new James and what had really changed? When he had gotten Imogene’s last letter he was going to go straight down to see her. But he had set the wheels in motion for the new business and they had turned faster and faster. If her letter had just come a few days earlier, before he had sent out al those letters to clients. It was crap timing but it was no her fault, it was his. He should have put everything on hold, told everyone that he would be in touch when things were up and running. Instead he had let it all go to his head. It was a buzz having people come to you asking if they could be a part of something you were responsible for. Imogen had gone out of his head and he cursed himself. Well things really would be different now. Flora could look after things for a few days, he could divert everything to his blackberry. No he could turn the bloody thing off and concentrate on what mattered. What was the point of doing all this, why had he started this ball rolling in the first place? It was for Imogen, it was to show her that he had changed, that he was not in her father’s pocket. He wanted her to see that he was willing to make big changes, not prove that he was everything she seemed to think he was. If he forgot yet another anniversary then he would be doing the latter and that was the last thing he wanted. He got up and went upstairs. Pulling a bag out of the wardrobe he started packing.<br /><br />The next morning he called Flora early and told her he was going away for a few days and that she was in charge. There was a funny squeaking noise from the other end of the phone but she said she’d be fine.<br />He was in Bond Street before the shops opened. He knew just what he wanted. As soon as he had made his purchase he was in the car and heading for Cornwall before anything could delay him.<br /><br />Imogen was in the garden pottering around with a hand fork. Summer might be nearly over but the weeds didn’t seem to realise. Over the last few weeks she had gotten into a nice little routine, she knew it couldn’t last, but for now she was just going to enjoy what was left of the summer. Cherith was coming over for lunch. But before that there were weeds to deal with and she got down on her hands and knees and started stabbing the ground with her fork.<br />‘If you go on like that you’ll kill more than just the weeds.’ Rowena’s voice floated across the garden.<br />‘Well I’ve got to start somewhere.’ Imogen sat back on her heels and looked at the patch of border in front of her.<br />‘Very true, but it would be better to start with that bindweed over there.’<br />‘The white climbing things? But they’re so pretty.’<br />‘Maybe but they’ll strangle everything and choke it to death, a bit like your father.’<br />‘Why did you and he hate each other so much? I never did understand.’<br />‘Neither did I in the end. We were too different, he resented the fact that our parents let me get away with so much and that I escaped. I hated the way he clung so stubbornly to ideas that were fifty years out of date, and I was jealous that he had you as a daughter and I didn’t. It was so complicated and so very simple. The trouble was we never talked about why, we just got into the habit and kept it going. Don’t make that mistake Gin darling. I should have swallowed my pride and so should he, we should have made the effort to talk to each other.’<br />‘It was you who told me to have some fun and enjoy the summer.’ Imogen was indignant.<br />‘I know. But the summer is all but over now. Philip will be going home next week, you need to start thinking about your future.’<br />‘Yes I suppose so. But this is so nice. Pottering around, Molly and Eleanor popping in now and then, picnics on the beach. Why can’t it just stay like this?’<br />‘Because it can’t. It never does. Life moves on whether we want it to or not and it’s better to go with it than fight it.’<br />‘But you fought it. You hated your life so you changed it.’<br />‘That’s true, and so have you haven’t you? But sometimes change happens despite us, not because of us. You’ve had a lovely summer that you will remember for a long time. But this is one of those occasions when you have to say it was good but now it’s over and I have to move on. Don’t try and hang on to something that has finished, that’s the road to bitterness and regret. One thing my illness taught me was acceptance. Sometimes you have to accept things for what they are and let them be. The trick is to know what to accept and what to fight. If you accept that your holiday is over and now you have to face the rest of your life then you will be learning a skill that will help you for the rest of your life.’<br />‘Spoil sport.’<br />‘Say goodbye to Philip. Then talk to James. And get rid of that bloody bindweed before it takes over the whole garden.’<br />Imogen found the offending bindweed and started yanking at it. Rowena was right of course, she always was. The summer was nearly over and soon things would change. She knew Philip was going home and she knew she needed to talk to James about a divorce, but she had been putting it out of her mind. It was easy to stick her head in the sand and pretend things could go on like this forever. She would remember this summer for the rest of her life as a turning point, but also as a magic time that could never happen again. And she was scared. Scared that she would never feel like this again, that this was it. She was desperate to hang onto that feeling that she had never had before, happiness. Rowena had always told her that once you had found the secret to happiness then it was yours for life, but what if she was wrong? But it was true that she couldn’t halt time, things would move on with or without her. And it was true that she had to settle things with James. She decided to write to him again, her last letter had been rather formal and maybe a bit rude. It was only fair she gave him a chance to defend himself. Yes she would write to him again in the morning. But now she needed to get cleaned up, Cherith was coming over for lunch. Her mother had still not gone home. Everyday she said she might go tomorrow, and every day she changed her mind.<br /><br />‘I called you father this morning but there was no reply. No answer last nigh either. He didn’t say he was going away again, but then our last conversation wasn’t overly friendly was it? I didn’t really expect him to call again. And I wasn’t going to call him, but I did say I would be back in a day or two and it’s been much longer. I felt guilty. Turned out I needn’t have bothered, he’s obviously taken himself off somewhere. Having a good sulk I should imagine. Never mind.’ Cherith raised her glass. ‘Anymore of that wine?’<br />‘We are not going to spend the whole afternoon drinking and getting squiffy again.’ Imogen said firmly as she filled their glasses.<br />‘Of course not dear.’ Cherith took a large mouthful.<br />‘Are you worried about him?’<br />‘A little. He’s not used to looking after himself and I worry what state the house will be in when I get back. I very much doubt Mrs Davis has been back.’<br />‘You are going back then?’<br />‘Oh yes. I just wanted to give him some time to think about things. Another day or two should do it. I’m not going to leave him if that’s what you’re worried about. Some people might say I should but I do love the old fool. By the time I get back he will have had a good rant to his pals, had a good sulk, and hopefully had a chance to miss me. Maybe I might get appreciated a bit more from now on. This taking control can be quite empowering can’t it?’<br />And bloody terrifying.<br />‘I was thinking I should get in touch with James.’ Imogen turned her glass stem around in her fingers.<br />‘It would be the grown up thing to do. I know I haven’t been very grown up this last couple of weeks but I will go back and I will face whatever there is to face. We have to. You left him and you need to take responsibility for that, just like I need to take responsibility for this little jaunt.’<br />‘Yes. I’ve been putting it off all summer.’<br />‘That’s only natural darling. You had a lot to think about. And you had your grief to deal with to. But if you have dealt with all that then you should take the next step. No one can blame you for what you did. Many people would have done it much sooner. Don’t feel guilty about not wanting to face unpleasant things, who does?’<br />‘But it would be better if I did wouldn’t it? And if I make the first move then I’m in control aren’t I?’<br />‘Quite right darling. But make sure you know what you want before you do anything. We both know James and how he will pick up on any weakness. But if you’re sure you know what you want then you should get on and sort it out, get it over and done with.’<br />‘Yes. I think I know what I want to do. I think I want a divorce.’<br />‘You think you want or you really want?’<br />‘I really want.’ Imogen bit her lip.<br />‘Oh darling I wish I could stay and be with you, it’s such a lot to go through on your own.’<br />‘I won’t be on my own. I have Molly and Eleanor.’ She hadn’t told Cherith about Philip and it seemed neither had Molly or Eleanor. There was a time when she told her mother everything, but that had ended a long time ago. There comes a time when you no longer want to tell your parents everything about your life however much they might want you to. Imogen knew Cherith would be a little hurt if she found out about Philip, but it was none of her business and Imogen didn’t want to have to try and explain. What she and Philip had was special to them and to share it would spoil it. One day she would be able to talk about him with other people, but not yet, and not to her mother. Although Cherith appeared to be quite broad minded Imogen knew she would not approve, and what would be the point of causing more upset?<br />‘I know. But you will keep in touch won’t you, you will keep me up to date? I am always there for you you know.’ Cherith reached over and gave Imogen’s hand a squeeze.<br />‘I know mum.’ She took her mothers hand and squeezed it back.<br /><br />They didn’t drink quite as much as they had the other night, but Cherith did have to call a taxi to take her back to Molly’s. Imogen was clearing up the plates and glasses when she saw Philip in the garden.<br />‘You can get arrested for loitering in this country you know.’ She called out of the window.<br />Philip grinned.<br />‘You can come in.’<br />‘I know, but I was hoping you would come out here. I was thinking about a trip to the cove.’<br />Imogen threw the dishcloth in the sink and went out, she didn’t need a second invitation. She knew this might be their last trip to the cove, and she wanted to spend as much time with him as she could.<br />They drove in silence, but it was a good silence. She no longer felt she had to say something, she was happy to just sit.<br />‘So when does your mum go home?’ Philip pulled a rug out from the boot of the car and handed it to her.<br />‘She’s still saying a day or two. She says she is going home, she’s making dad sweat a bit. I never put her down as a game player. But I guess if you’ve been living with the master for so long then something must rub off.’ They walked down the tiny path, well used to all the lose stones and pits by now.<br />‘So you’ll be here all on your own soon.’<br />‘Don’t. I’m going to miss you both so much. It’s been so nice having her here these couple of weeks. And I wouldn’t have had half as good a summer without you.’<br />‘Maybe I’ll be back next year.’<br />‘And maybe you’ll have met a nice girl and be off round India or somewhere by then.’ Imogen laughed. It was a joke but there was a lot of truth behind it. He would find someone his own age and by next summer Cornwall would be a long way away.<br />‘And what about you? What will you be doing this time next year?’<br />‘I honestly have no idea. The only thing I do know is that I’ll still be here, there is no way I will be going back to London.’<br />‘And what about James, will you be going back to him?’ Philip poured them both hot coffee from his thermos. He handed her her cup with a little smile. ‘If you say yes I won’t be upset.’<br />Imogen took the cup of coffee and smiled back. ‘At the moment I would say no. I’ve decided to write to him again and ask him to give me details of his solicitor. I also need to talk to him. I know I should call him, but I’m not going to do anything yet. Summer isn’t quite over.’<br />‘Four days and counting.’<br />‘Are you looking forward to going home? Silly question really, you must be.’<br />‘If you had asked me a few days ago I would have said that I didn’t want to go. But I do miss the family. I did think I might stay, but…well…’ He kicked himself, he wasn’t going to mention it. He wasn’t going to say anything that was going to make her uncomfortable.<br />‘But I fell asleep.’ She knew what he was thinking. She had been thinking the same. She smiled across at him.<br />‘And that was the best thing you could have done wasn’t it?’<br />‘I think so.’<br />‘To the future.’ Philip held his mug up in a toast.<br />‘To the future.’ She clinked her mug against his.<br /><br />The traffic was horrendous. James pulled off at a service station and got the map book out. He was sticking to the motorway, he always used the motorway. Now he was wondering if he might not get there quicker if he went on the B roads. Usually the side roads with their tractors and mums on the school run drove him mad. But he was getting no where fast and a lot of blue flashing lights screaming past told him that it was not going to get any better. He thought about Imogen making this journey all those weeks ago. She would definatly have come off the motorway, if she had gone on it in the first place, she hated them. He remembered every time they went anywhere her face would change as soon as they hit the motorways. Any smile that was there would vanish and she would sit in silence until they came off again. Looking at the map he tried to work out what route she would have taken. There were several options that would take him through lots of lovely or strange sounding places. That wouldn’t do, he needed to get there before tonight. Just before he left he had gone on the laptop and found the names of a couple of hotels in the nearest town to Imogen. His previous experience of country hotels had not been good and he wanted to leave enough time to change his mind and find somewhere else if needs be. He knew that staying with Imogen was not an option. He knew the cottage only had one bedroom. Before he would have just turned up on her doorstep and expect to stay. Who was he trying to kid, he wouldn’t have gone down in the first place.<br /><br />Henry pulled in to a lay-by and got his maps out. It had been so long since he was last down here and he was dammed if he could remember the way. He was sure he was in the right direction at least, but nothing looked familiar anymore. He wasn’t even sure he could remember the name of the village. He scanned the page until something looked familiar. He knew the sensible thing to do was to phone Cherith and ask her how to get there. It was the last thing he was going to do. At last a name sprung out from the map that he thought sounded right. Well it was worth a try. He took a swing from his bottle of water and wished it was Gin. If he was at home he would be settling down with a nice G and T about now. Well he had chosen to come so there was no point moaning. He was assuming that Cherith was staying with Imogen, or somewhere near. It was perfectly possible they had gone off somewhere on a girly holiday. He might be travailing all this way for nothing. It was a chance he had to take. On the mind numbing drive down the motorway a terrifying thought had occurred to him, what if Cherith had left him? It was possible that the reason she had not come home was because she had no intention of ever coming home. The thought made him cold. What on earth was he going to do without her? He started to feel sick, then he pulled over and was sick on the hard shoulder.<br />The last time he had been scared of anything was when he was at school. Every night he would start to get a little shaky about six o’clock. Soon it would be lights out and he would have the indignity of having his pyjamas taken by one of the older boys. Every night they chose a new hiding place, which meant he had to creep around the dorm in his underpants until he found them. Once they flushed them down the toilet and that flooded the bathroom. He was hauled up in front of the headmaster and, because it was his name on the offending garments, he got the blame. He had a good idea who was responsible but he dare not say anything. He hoped his silence would earn him some respect, and for a while it did. Then he made the mistake of telling someone he thought had become a friend that he was homesick. That night he found his pyjamas missing and it all started again. He decided that night that it was better not to tell anyone how you were really feeling, it was better to put up a bold frond and ride it out. The thought of loosing Cherith was even more terrifying than the thought of telling her how he felt, he had to crack the façade and tell her.<br />He wondered if he could actually say the words out loud. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. He tried again, a strangled whisper escaped. Taking a deep breath he tried a third time.<br />‘I love you.’ he said under his breath. That was better, but he needed to sound like he meant it.<br />‘I love you.’ That was better, try again.<br />‘I love you’ Much better, he was getting the hang of it now.<br />‘I love you!’ he shouted. ‘I love you Cherith March.’<br /><br />The country roads weren’t as bad as James feared. So far he had only met one tractor. With any luck he should be there before dark. He wondered what was the best thing to do. He hadn’t given this as much thought as he should have. Should he check into the hotel and find Imogen in the morning, or should he just turn up on her doorstep tonight? It might be better to find the hotel first. Going to see her in the morning would give him more time to think about what he wanted to say, but maybe he should get the initial contact over and done with. What if she refused to see him? If he saw her tonight then at least he would know her reaction, then he could try again in the morning. And what was he going to say to her? Of course he might not get the chance. She might just shut the door in his face. Well he had come too far now, he had just crossed the border into Cornwall so he would be there in just over an hour, give or take a few more tractors.<br /><br />‘Let’s go in the water.’ Philip said suddenly. He jumped up and tried to pull Imogen to her feet.<br />‘Do you never learn?’<br />‘I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.’ he whispered. ‘But hey it might be warmer this time.’ He added in a rather too bouncy tone.<br />‘You’re mad.’<br />‘And you’re coming with me.’ He grabbed her arm and pulled her down to the seas edge before she had the chance to protest again. She hung back as best she could.<br />‘This really isn’t a good idea Philip.’<br />‘A last blast before I go home. Come on!’<br />She looked at him jumping up and down like an over excited puppy and started to giggle, what the hell it was only water. She kicked off her shoes and took his hand. They leapt into the water with great screams and whoops. It was cold but it was exhilarating. They splashed around like seals. Her skirt would be ruined but she didn’t care, at that moment she didn’t care about anything. In a few days she was going to have to make decisions, and Philip was going to go home. Her mother to was going to be heading home and she was going to be left to live whatever life she decided upon.<br />A job was a possibility, not that she had any idea what she might do. She might take some evening classes, maybe take up painting or photography. There was so much she could do now if she wanted to. When she had arrived here having such freedom had scared her to death, now it excited her.<br /> She had heard somewhere that it can be warmer in the sea in December than in summer, she had thought that rather stupid, but now she believed it. It might be fun but she was starting to shiver.<br />‘Enough.’ She said and started to wade back to the shore. ‘I’m bloody freezing.’ She ran across the sand to the car rung that was spread out with their picnic on. She swept everything off of it and threw it around her shoulders. She could see Philip still in the water, mad bugger, he’ll freeze she thought. She waved at him and signalled that he should get out. Eventually he started to wade towards her. By the time he was standing next to her he was shivering. Imogen pulled the rug from her own shoulders and wrapped it around his.<br />‘You really are mad.’ She said.<br />‘Maybe, but it’s something I’ll never forget. I don’t think I’ll ever be this cold again.’ His teeth were chattering.<br />‘I think we need to get you home and warn you up. I’ll drive.’ She bundled him back to the Land Rover and got behind the wheel. Basic gear box and no power steering, oh well it would be an experience. She took a deep breath and crunched it into gear.<br />Back at Mulberry Cottage Imogen went straight into the kitchen and put the kettle on.<br />‘Sit down and drink this.’ She thrust a steaming mug in to his hands and pushed him into the chair. ‘I’m going to have a quick shower and change while you drink that. Then it’s your turn. You can take those wet clothes off as well.’ She threw him her bathrobe. ‘You can borrow that for now.’ She tried to push the thought of Philip naked in her sitting room out of her mind.<br /><br />It was just starting to get dark when James pulled up outside the post office. He wasn’t sure for a minuet if it was actually open. There were lights on, which was promising. James got out of the car and tried the door.<br />‘Hello?’ They might be open but they didn’t seem to be anyone there. You couldn’t do that in London, James thought, everything would have been nicked by now.<br />‘Can I help you?’<br />James spun round at the sound of the voice. From nowhere a large woman with very grey hair had appeared.<br />‘Oh hello…yes …um I’m looking for Mulberry Cottage.’<br />‘Oh yes.’ The postmistress folded her arms.<br />‘I’m looking for Imogen Lampress? She’s living there?’<br />‘That’s right. And what would you be wanting with Gin?’ She gave him a very hard stare that Paddington bear would have been proud of. She had been warned by Eleanor that Imogen’s father might be coming down to cause trouble. This one didn’t look quite old enough to be her father but he did look like one of those snotty London types that come down and raise house prices.<br />‘I’m her husband.’ James said bluntly.<br />The postmistress stared at him for a while. James knew she was trying to calculate if he could be her husband. It was something they had got a lot of in their early days together, people trying to decide if he was Imogen’s father, uncle, older brother or just a dirty old man.<br />‘There is an age difference, but I am her husband. Do you know where Mulberry Cottage is, please?’<br />‘Are you here to cause her any trouble? I’ve been told that her father might be wanting to cause her some trouble, they didn’t mention you.’<br />‘I’m not here for any trouble. I just want to talk to her.’<br />‘You’re from London aren’t you?’<br />‘Yes.’<br />‘Are you planning to buy a house round here?’<br />‘No.’ James said a little confused.<br /> It was true that Rowena was a blow in, but she was different from the others. She came with no pretensions and no intention of trying to change anything. After a couple of years everyone forgot that she was from London and no one had bothered to ask where Imogen was from when she started coming down, they where both honorary locals. And as such they were looked out for. He didn’t look like trouble, and he was more polite than some of the others. She gave him another look up and down. She’d give him directions but then she would phone Eleanor and give her the heads up, just in case. Eleanor could manover the troops in no time.<br />‘Carry on through the village. When you’re clear out the other side look for a lane on your left. Turn into that. Then carry on down that lane until you come to the farm. Mulberry is just next to the farm yard entrance.’ She drew herself up to her full height, all five foot of it, to show him she was keeping her eye on him.<br />‘Thank you very much.’ He gave her his best smile in the sure knowledge that it would have no affect what so ever.<br /><br />Imogen wrapped herself up in one of Rowena’s silk dressing gowns. Philip was in the shower so she decided to get some food organised and get his clothes dried. Rowena had a washing machine but no tumble drier so she draped Philip’s still damp clothes over the garden furniture on the patio. It was a warm evening so it shouldn’t take them to long to dry off. As she was spreading Philip’s shirt out across the chair she heard a car in the lane. She stopped to listen, it sounded vaguely familiar but it wasn’t Cherith’s. Her mother was having dinner with Molly and Eleanor tonight anyway. It wasn’t any of the farm vehicles. It must be someone visiting the Tregowen’s. She shrugged and went back inside and started rummaging through the fridge.<br />James walked up the long garden path and couldn’t help but be enchanted by the garden in the dusk light, it was quite beautiful. That must be the famous Mulberry tree, and there was the plague to Rowena, so he was in the right pace then. As he approached the patio he could see clothes spread out across the furniture, as he got closer he could see that they were men’s clothes. He frowned. He went up to the cottage and looked for a door. Finding none he tapped on the French windows that seemed to lead into a sitting room. Peering in he couldn’t see anyone, but there were lights on. He tapped again. A young man in Imogen’s white fluffy bathrobe appeared from a doorway and came across the room towards him. James glanced down at the spread out clothes and then back up at the young man. Something rushed through his mind that he didn’t like. He opened his mouth and then closed it again.<br />‘Hi. Can I help?’ Philip had opened the windows.<br />James looked him up and down, his mind whirring. ‘I’m looking for Imogen Lampress.’ He said at last.<br />‘Oh right. I think she’s in the kitchen.’ Philip looked James up and down, so this was James. He knew Imogen wasn’t expecting him, but he also didn’t want a scene so he stood aside and let James in. ‘I’ll go and get her.’ Philip went through to the kitchen.<br />Imogen was standing at the Aga singing to herself and stirring a pan of soup. She had pulled the kitchen door to so Philip could get dressed in private. So she hadn’t heard the knock on the windows or the voices.<br />‘Gin.’ Philip came up close behind her and whispered. ‘Gin what does James look like?’<br />Imogen jumped. She turned round quickly.<br />‘Why are you whispering?’ She whispered back.<br />‘What does James look like?’ he whispered again.<br />‘About your height, broad shoulders, short dark hair with a few grey bits, normally wearing a suit. Why?’ What a strange thing to be asking.<br />‘He’s in the sitting room.’<br />‘What!’ Imogen pushed past Philip and flew through the door. There he was, standing in the middle of the room looking awkward.<br />‘James. What are you doing here?’ she stood with her hands on her hips.<br />‘I drove down this afternoon.’<br />‘Oh.’ Imogen was suddenly aware of Philip standing just behind her. ‘This is Philip.’ She dropped her arms back by her sides.<br />‘We’ve met.’ James said flatly. He looked at them standing there, him in her bathrobe and her in some brightly coloured silk concoction.<br />‘I’ve obviously walked in on something. I should go.’ James said. He didn’t want to be seeing this but he couldn’t take his eyes off them.<br />Imogen didn’t quite know what he was talking about. Then she caught a glimpse of herself and Philip in the mirror standing there barely clothed, and realised what must be going through James’ mind. There was a split seconds thrill as she realised what he was thinking. James was turning to leave when she started to speak.<br />‘This is not…’ she stopped. Why was she justifying herself to him, he had barged into her home and she was about to apologise because he had gotten hold of the wrong end of the stick. Sod him. If he wanted to put two and two together and get thirty-three then that was up to him. They hadn’t done anything to be ashamed off. James had been here less than five minuets and already he was making her feel guilty when she had nothing to be guilty about.<br />‘I’m staying at the ‘Royal Hotel’ in town. I’ll come back in the morning.’ He turned and left before his feelings got the better of him. He needed a drink. He had told himself all the way down that it would be better to get some sleep and come and see her in the morning. He had driven into town and passed the hotel with every intention of finding the car park. Instead he had sailed past and carried on to the village. It wouldn’t hurt to get his bearings and find out how to get to the cottage. Once he had been given directions he decided it wouldn’t hurt to physically find his way there. Once he was outside the garden gate he got out of the car and was propelled up the garden path by some power outside of his control. Now he was very definatly getting himself out of there as quickly as possible.<br /><br />‘Are you ok?’ Philip guided Imogen to the sofa and sat her down.<br />‘How dare he? How bloody dare he? He wrote and asked if he could come and see me and I said no. Why does he never listen to me? Why bother to ask if he was just going to do what he wanted anyway? And why was I stupid enough to think he would do anything else? AAAAHHH!’ She thumped the nearest cushion.<br />‘He thought we’d been sleeping together, he thought he’d caught us after a romp. He did look really shocked.’<br />‘Don’t even try and defend him.’<br />‘I’m not. Good God when I realised who he was I wanted to hit him.’<br />‘I wish you had.’<br />‘No you don’t.’<br />‘Maybe not. Oh God.’ Imogen put her head in her hands. ‘This was not how it was supposed to be.’<br />Philip went to the phone and dialled Molly’s number.<br />‘Hi Molly I think Cherith should come over to Gin right away. James had just turned up.’<br />A few minuets later Cherith was flying up the garden path hotly followed by Molly and Eleanor.<br />‘Oh darling.’ Cherith threw her arms around her daughter.<br />‘Ok where is he, what’s he done and do you want me to hit him?’ Eleanor’s face was a thunderstorm.<br />‘I’ll make some tea.’ Molly hurried out to the kitchen.<br />While all this was going on Philip had sneaked out onto the patio and got dressed. He watched threw the windows and when he was sure Imogen was going to be all right he crept out of the garden and back to the farm. He wasn’t needed now and he didn’t want to cause Imogen any more embarrassment. He would drop by in the morning to make sure she was ok.<br />‘What happened?’ Cherith was sitting on the edge of the sofa holding Imogen’s hands.<br />‘I came out of the kitchen and he was just there, standing right there.’ Imogen nodded towards the middle of the room.<br />‘Bastard!’ Exclaimed Eleanor.<br />‘I thought you’d asked him not to come?’ Cherith said.<br />‘I had.’ Shock and anger had turned into exhaustion and Imogen flopped back into the cushions. ‘He says he’s staying at the Royal and he’ll come back in the morning.’ She closed her eyes. In a half hour her perfect summer had turned into a complete nightmare.<br />‘Well we’ll be ready for him.’ Eleanor was itching for a fight. ‘You hold him down and I’ll beat him around the head with my handbag.’ Despite themselves all four women burst out laughing at the image.<br /><br />While a council of war was being held at Mulberry Cottage Henry was pulling into the Royal Hotel car park. It was getting dark and he had no intention of confronting Cherith tonight. He needed to sleep on it and decide what he was going to say. Impulse had never been his strong suit and this trip was quite enough for one day. The rest of his time here was going to be planned. After breakfast he would find out where Cherith was hiding out. But right now he wanted a large gin and tonic and a soft bed.<br />The hotel was a far cry from the ones he was used to in London. For a start you had to bring your bags in yourself. He dumped them down and banged on the bell. He looked at his watch, it was only eight o’clock, there should still be someone on reception. He thumped the bell again. A girl of about twelve popped her head out from around a door.<br />‘Can I help?’<br />‘Are you in charge?’ He looked her up and down and wondered what the world was coming to.<br />‘I suppose I am at the moment. What can I do for you?’<br />‘I need a room please.’<br />‘Of course sir. Are you alone?’ She glanced around.<br />‘It appears so.’<br />‘Right. And will you be wanting breakfast?’<br />‘Of course I will. And a local map. And an alarm call for seven. And no I don’t want papers, and yes I do require ensuiet, and I don’t care about a view.’<br />‘Right. Ok then. Um if you could just fill in this form please sir.’ London, you could always tell, leave their manners at the border, that’s if they have any in the first place. She kept a fixed smile on her face until he had signed his form and taken his key.<br />‘Is there someone who can take my bags?’<br />‘I’m afraid not sir. But there is a lift.’ She pointed towards the lift and gave him another clenched smile.<br />‘Huh.’ Henry dragged his case over to the lift. As the doors closed he could have sworn he saw James come in through the main entrance. He shook his head, he was tired, he needed Gin and sleep.<br /><br />James stood at the reception desk for several minuets before he saw the girl standing there smiling at him.<br />‘Hello sir, can I help?’<br />‘Oh…um…yes. I made a booking this morning. Lampress.’<br />She tapped on the computer but kept one eye on him. Another suit from the city, and this one didn’t seem to know what planet he was on. She shook her head. He mother had wanted her to go to London to do a secretarial course, looking at this one and the one before she was glad she had said no. If this is what London does to you then you can keep it.<br />‘Yes here we are. You’re booked in for three nights is that right?’<br />‘I think so. I might need to stay longer, but I might not be staying. I’m sorry.’ James frowned.<br />‘That’s quite all right. Could you fill this in please?’ She pushed the form and a pen towards him. This one was strange. She was going to have to keep an eye on him.<br />James filled the form in automatically, they were always the same in every hotel all over the world. He had lost count how many times he had filled in his personal details and handed them over to all and sundry. He pushed the form back across the desk.<br />‘Thank you sir. Here is your key. Your room is on the second floor.’ She fixed her smile and waited for him to look up. When he didn’t she shrugged, no manners, none of them.<br />James trundled his case to the lift and got in. He stood staring at the buttons and couldn’t remember which one to press. Which floor had she said, third, second? He pushed the nearest button and hoped. He closed his eyes, and then wished he hadn’t, all he could see was Imogen and that boy. It was stupid to be jealous, he knew that, he hadn’t got a leg to stand on in that department after all. He leaned his head against the cold metal. He needed a stiff drink and a soft bed. And a lobotomy, what had he been thinking? She had said she didn’t want him here and he came anyway. He had wanted to surprise her on their anniversary. He wanted to tell her that it was all right. He wanted to hold her and kiss her and tell her that he was not the man she thought he was. Instead he had reverted to type and disregarded her wishes completely. He understood why she didn’t want him there at least. Whoever the boy was they were obviously having some kind of relationship.<br />The doors opened and he bumbled along the corridor. Eventually he found his room and let himself in. He looked around for the mini bar. He took his double whisky and sat on the end of the bed. It wasn’t unreasonable for her to have moved on. But he hadn’t expected it. But he had moved on, he wasn’t the same person he was three months ago, why should she be. He had been so excited on the way down. He was full of all the new plans he had that he wanted to share with her. Now he sat and sipped his whisky and wondered what the hell he was going to do.<br /><br />Imogen waved her mother and her friends off and went back into the sitting room. She noticed that Philip’s clothes were gone and she suspected he had snuck away. She didn’t blame him. She started collecting cups and glasses and took them through to the kitchen.<br />‘Meow.’ Boris appeared from nowhere and started winding around her legs.<br />‘Hungry again I suppose.’ She bent down and stroked him.<br />‘Meow.’<br />‘Oh Boris what a bloody mess. All we need now is for dad to turn up and the nightmare will be complete.’<br />Well James was here now so she might as well get it all over and done with. She had wanted to do this on her terms for a change but that was not to be. She had felt sick when she saw him standing there, and for a moment she wasn’t sure if it really was him. He had changed, lost weight and let the grey grow out in his hair. It was a new suit to, not the normal crisp pin stripe but a softer linen in a pale camel colour, it suited him. And no tie, she had never seen him in a suit without a tie before, he looked quite hansom. But the fact remained that he had blatantly disregarded her wishes, again. Well this time she was not going to put up with it. When he showed up in the morning she would tell him that she wanted a divorce and that she wanted him to go home. She would be firm, there was no way she was going back to London and there was no way she was going back to that old life. He might have come down to drag her back, and there was a time when she would have gone, but not now.<br />Boris jumped up on the table and touched her cheek with his nose. Imogen absentmindedly put her hand out to stroke him. She was so sure this morning that this was what she wanted. A little cottage, big garden, cat, it was perfect. Now her old life had been slapped back into her consciousness. Although he was the last person she wanted to see there was something disturbingly comforting about his presence. With James she didn’t have to make decisions. She didn’t have to mow her own lawn, it was safe. It would be very easy to go back to London with him, to get the gold credit cards back out and settle back into obscurity. Or she could stay here and make her own decisions, mow her own lawn and have a life. If sounded a simple decision, one she thought she had made weeks ago. There was a part of her that liked being looked after, and once Philip had gone home who would there be to do that? Yes Philip had made her do things for herself but it was like learning to drive in a car with duel control, although you’re in charge there is always someone there to slam the breaks on if it looks like you’re going to do something stupid. Once Philip had gone she would be doing it for real, there would be no one there to take the wheel if she started to drift off in the wrong direction. Could she trust herself to know what the right direction was?<br />‘There’s always me.’<br />‘I know Boris, but you’re a cat.’ She stared. He didn’t really just say that did he? She shook her head. I need to go to bed, she decided. In the morning it would look different, everything always did.<br /><br />The next morning Imogen was awake before dawn. She lay propped up on her pillows and waited for the light to start filtering through the open windows. She wasn’t sure she had had any sleep, she had tossed and turned so much that the sheet fell right off the bed at one point. Boris gave up about two and marched out into the garden in disgust. She had been given so many cups of too sweet tea last night by Molly that she didn’t think she would ever be able to face another cup; but now she longed for its comfort.<br />She took her mug out to the garden and went to sit beneath the Mulberry tree. This was going to be one of those days that stick with you for the rest of your life. She needed a plan. She dismissed locking herself in the bathroom, tempting as it sounded. Shopping would be good, there must be lots of things she really needed to get without delay, but she couldn’t think of any. The fact was she had to deal with whatever the day brought. She leaned back and felt the comforting strength of the trees trunk. If she closed her eyes she could see herself playing in this garden as a child. She was happy then, long before the confusion of adult life had taken hold. It was naive to think she could feel like that again, but this summer had brought her somewhere close. Now she had to go back to adult land and she just didn’t want to. Perhaps she had thought that moving here would mean an eternal summer holiday, no responsibility and no decisions, like so many others who move down here. But that was unrealistic and she knew she had to take hold of her future herself. Whatever was decided today would have implications for years to come. If she sent James home then that would be that, there would be no going back. She had to be very sure she wanted him out of her life for good before she did that. Leaving had been comparatively easy because there was always the option to go back. If she sent him away with demands for a divorce then going back was no longer an option. <br />‘Don’t shut any doors unless you know you can unlock them again.’ Rowena’s voice came across the garden on the morning breeze.<br />‘Meaning?’<br />‘Meaning be sure of what you want before you make any decisions, and don’t let him bully you into anything.’<br />‘I just don’t understand why he’s here. I told him I wanted a divorce.’<br />‘You wrote him a rather short letter. He maybe wants to talk to you about it properly. Maybe he doesn’t want a divorce.’<br />‘I don’t see why. He didn’t want to marry me in the first place. I’m giving him the option to get out.’ Imogen drained her mug and put it down beside her.<br />‘Well you’re good for business for a start. A pretty young wife on his arm has never done any harm has it? And how many dinner parties have you had to play hostess to? You’ve brought him a lot of business over the years.’<br />‘I’m not sure that’s quite fair.’<br />‘Isn’t it?’<br />‘It’s true that I have done a lot of entertaining for him and gone to a lot of junkets with him. But it wasn’t just me, all the wives do it. Do you really think he was that cynical?’<br />‘You did once, remember? Why did you decide to leave? Think about it, what made you want to leave him? You were fed up with being taken for granted, fed up with being ignored, fed up with never having any say in anything you did. Christ he even bought your clothes! You’ve had a few weeks to distance yourself from it all, but don’t let yourself forget any of it.’<br />‘I know you want me to stay here. I know you’ve always hated James.’<br />‘Yes I have. But what I want is for you to do what makes you happy. I won’t pretend to understand if you decide to go back with him. But if that is what you really want, what you want, then fine.’<br />‘I thought I knew what I wanted. I thought I wanted to live here and carry on where you left off.’<br />‘But you’re not me. I never wanted you to just pick up my life and take it over. I left you all this to give you some options. If you had sold up and used the money to start a brothel in Jamaica then that would have been fine. I hoped you would choose to make a life for yourself here because I knew how happy it always made you to be here. But it has to be your life Ginny. Think about what you want, make your own decision, then keep that in mind when you talk to James. And you are allowed to change your mind. That’s what I mean by not shutting doors, allow yourself room to change your mind.’<br />‘I’ll try.’<br />‘Good girl. Now have a shower, put on your best clothes and get yourself ready.’<br />‘Ok.’ Imogen took a deep breath and went back into the cottage.<br /><br />James woke and immediately wished he hadn’t had that second double whisky. He really didn’t need a hangover this morning. He reached over and looked at the clock, it was only seven. He groaned and flopped back against the pillows. It had taken an age to get to sleep, every time he closed his eyes all he could see was Imogen and the boy. He imagined them kissing, he saw them in bed and it had made him feel sick. By two in the morning he had given up on sleep and lay there staring at the ceiling. That was the last thing he remembered. He must have slept because he had just woken up, but it didn’t feel like it. He was very glad of the civilised British tradition of a kettle and coffee in the rooms. So many times on the continent he had woken in similar states and longed for a strong cup of coffee. He leaned over and flicked the kettle on.<br />The coffee was strong and tasted delicious, but it triggered something off in his delicate stomach. He just made it to the bathroom before last nights meal hit the toilet bowl. This was not the way it was meant to be. He had had a romantic vision of sweeping Imogen off her feet, of her falling into his arms. Instead she had been in someone else’s arms and he was sitting on the bathroom floor of a mediocre hotel throwing up. He needed to pull himself together. He needed a plan. Ok so things had not gone to plan A. There was no plan B but he was sure he could make one up. First of all he needed to shower.<br />As the hot water pelted him all over he started to think. Today was going to be important one way or another. He needed to be sure of what he wanted and of what he needed before he did anything else. Well he needed to know who the boy was for a start. Then he needed to know how serious their relationship was. Last night he had detected an accent and it was possible that he was just some kid on a summer working holiday. With any luck he would bugger off to wherever it was he had come from. His initial reaction was to hit him. He was proud of the way he had kept himself together, not that it had done him much good. Had Imogen noticed how controlled he had been? He hoped so. She had looked so angry, shocked and angry. What had he expected, that she would run into his arms? It worked in those daft films she liked watching. The trouble was that in real life not everyone had read the script. He should have tried harder to call her. He should have given it some proper thought. Well he didn’t and he hadn’t and he was here now so he should make the best of it. He would get dressed and have breakfast. Then he would take a drive over to Mulberry Cottage and calmly ask to talk to her. He would keep his temper and ask about the boy. Then he would ask her her plans before he told her his. One of the reasons she had left, according to Olwen, was that he didn’t listen to her. Ok he would listen to whatever she had to say to him, good and bad. He would take whatever criticism she had to throw at him; he probably deserved it. When she was finished he would tell her of the new business. How he had left Henry and started up on his own. He would tell her how sorry he was for the other women, how little they had meant. He would tell her about Mandy and how he hadn’t been able to stand her near him because she wasn’t Imogen. He would try and tell her he loved her. How did you say that to someone anyway, do you just blurt it out or do you hint at it and hope they pick it up? He had no idea and hoped he would know when the time came.<br /><br />The alarm call was right on time; Henry was impressed. He got out of bed and put the kettle on. While he waited he got the local map out and spread it on the bed. He located the town he was in and scanned the surrounding area. Mulberry Cottage would obviously not be marked but he remembered there had been a farm next door and that might be. If he could just remember the name of the dammed place. He scratched his head. There were only a couple of A roads out of the town. One of them must take him to the village near the cottage. He traced his finger along one and then the other. Finally there was a name that meant something. He started tracing along the B roads from the village. So many of them you would think it was the centre of the world. Well it had got to be there somewhere. Eventually he found what he was sure was the right farm. Next to it was a little brown square, which must be Mulberry Cottage. Good, now he could go and get some breakfast.<br /><br />The dinning room was nearly empty and Henry saw James immediately. So he wasn’t seeing things last night. He gave a heavy sigh. He knew James would see him to and he knew a conversation of some sort was inevitable. All right then, there were things he wanted to say to James and now was as good a time as any. He squared his shoulders and walked into the room.<br /><br />James looked up and couldn’t quite believe his eyes. It appeared that Henry was coming towards him across the dinning room, but that couldn’t be right could it? He blinked a few times but he was still there. Oh shit. This really was the last thing he needed. Who was this man, his evil shadow or something? Things whirled through his mind. Surely Henry hadn’t followed him for some kind of showdown. Not even Henry would do that. Maybe he had decided to try and drag Imogen back. Well if that was the case he had wasted his journey. There was no way James was going to let Henry get in the way this time. He sat up as straight as he could and watched Henry’s approach.<br />‘Good morning Henry. This is a surprise.’<br />‘For me to. May I join you?’<br />‘Please.’ James indicated the empty chair. When Henry was settled James decided to take the lead.<br />‘So what brings you down here?’<br />‘I could ask you the same question.’<br />‘But I asked first.’<br />‘Cherith is here somewhere. As I told you she has come down to see Imogen. She said she would only be a day or two, but she’s still not home. I decided it was time I came and found out what was going on. What about you?’<br />‘I’m here to see Imogen. There are things we need to talk about.’<br />‘Like your betrayal?’ First point to me, Henry thought.<br />‘Oh Henry please, you are the last person to talk about betrayal.’ One all.<br />‘This is not about the so called ‘selling’ of my daughter is it? That really is getting rather boring.’<br />‘I think that was just one of many wasn’t it? I may be guilty of betrayal but not of you. I think we are even don’t you?’<br />‘No I don’t. I opened many doors for you. Your career would not be half what it is if it wasn’t for me. And you repay me by taking some of my best clients and setting up in opposition.’ Keep calm now Henry, you’re in a public place remember. But he was starting to turn red, which meant loosing his temper was not far off.<br />‘I really don’t think I owe you anything. Most of those client you are claming for yourself would not have come to you if it hadn’t been for me. All I did was tell them I was setting up on my own. They made their own choice to join me. With Imogen gone your hold on me was gone.’<br />‘What about loyalty?’<br />‘Loyalty to whom? To you? To expect loyalty you have to show it Henry. When did you ever show me any true loyalty? You would have hung me out to dry the moment my magic touch wore off. I don’t think you even know what the word means.’<br />‘How dare you! I have always been loyal to my family and those who are loyal to me.’ Henry was clenching his teeth now.<br />‘Really? What about Allen? As soon as he lost that account you dropped him like a hot brick, he had been working for you for twenty years. And then there was Gerry. Ok so getting caught with a prostitute was not the best career move, but he had shown nothing but loyalty to the firm. You fired him. I could go on if you like. And then, of course, there is Imogen. You were so loyal to her that you called her a silly little bitch and moaned about how bad her leaving me would make you look. No concern for her at all.’<br />‘How I conduct myself is none of your business.’<br />‘No of course. You are quite free to screw up all on your own. But I had had enough of your warped ideas of loyalty and good business. Let alone your personal conduct. You nearly had me sucked in, but I saw through you just in time. A few more years and I would have turned into you. That thought makes me shudder.’<br />‘I will not tolerate being spoken to like that by you, or anyone.’ Henry spat.<br />‘Fine. But I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking. Please Henry, for your own sake, and everyone else’s, take a good hard look at yourself. Nothing I have done over the last few weeks has had anything to do with you. Believe it or not the world does not revolve around you. Or me for that matter. All though for years I thought it did. I did what I did for me and, hopefully, for Imogen. I’ve been given a second chance to pull myself up and start again. You should try it.’<br />‘I think I will have breakfast sent up to my room. Excuse me.’ Henry left quickly. He had a picture of a lonely old man sat in the corner of an old folk’s home with no visitors.<br /><br />Imogen was back out in the garden. It had taken her an hour to decide what to wear. She still had some of the designer clothes she had bought for herself. They did give her the look of authority, but they weren’t her anymore, and she was only keeping them for their labels. Then there were the jeans and T-shirts she had acquired over the summer, but they weren’t right for today. In the back of the wardrobe there was Rowena’s boho. Some of it was lovely but she needed James to take her seriously, and he wouldn’t in a tie-dye kaftan. In the end she had settled for a Boden tea dress and a pair of Mary Jane’s. She put her hair in heated rollers and put her ‘face’ on for the first time in weeks. Now all she had to do was wait. She looked at her watch, the first time she had worn it all summer. Nine o’clock, he would be here soon. She took out the rollers and brushed her hair, ready. When she heard the gate squeak she jumped up and smoother down her dress.<br />‘Wow!’ Philip stopped dead when he saw her.<br />‘Oh it’s you.’<br />‘Sorry. Shall I go?’ He started to turn around.<br />‘No! No I didn’t mean it like that. No I’m glad it is you. Do you think it’s too early for a glass of wine?’<br />‘I think it might be yes. I could go and put the kettle on?’<br />‘Oh no. I don’t think I could drink any more tea. I’ve had four cups already this morning.’<br />‘Not at all nervous then?’ He smiled.<br />‘Oh not at all.’ She laughed.<br />‘That’s better. Now come and sit down and relax.’<br />‘I know it’s stupid to be nervous; it’s only James after all. But I just have a feeling about today. I think it might decide the rest of my life. I need to be sure what I want to say to him. And I’m not.’<br />‘So let’s talk about it until you are sure.’ Philip sat down opposite her and took her hand across the garden table.<br />‘You must have better things to do.’<br />‘Not really. So come on then. What do you want to say to him?’<br />‘I want to tell him to piss off back to London. I want him to know how angry I am with him for being here. But I don’t do confrontation very well. I know what will happen as soon as I start to tell him how I feel. He’ll take over and tell me how I should be feeling. And I’ll end up agreeing with him because he’ll make me so unsure of myself.’<br />‘And how do you feel?’<br />‘I don’t know. I thought I did. If you had asked me yesterday I would have said I had found it. That this was what I want for the rest of my life. Then he turned up and spoilt it all. I’ve been sticking my head in the sand again haven’t I?’<br />‘A bit maybe. Was there anything about your old life you miss?’<br />‘Not really. Harrods maybe. Seriously though. People of course. But living here doesn’t stop me seeing them. I just never seemed to fit in somehow. I grew up there but it never felt like home. When I came down here I always felt like I was coming home. I had much more in London. Big house and all that. Some would say I was mad to leave it all. And I know there are people who would kill for what I have left behind.’<br />‘It doesn’t matter what everyone else might think about your life. If there are other people who want that kind of life then leave them to it. What do you want from life? I don’t just mean where you live.’<br />‘I want to be happy.’<br />‘And did your London life make you happy?’<br />‘No.’<br />‘There you go then. And did James make you happy?’ Philip already knew the answer to this one.<br />‘No. Well…sometimes. There were times when I thought we might be ok. He tried in the early days, sort of. I don’t think he ever was the way he was on purpose. He could be nice sometimes.’<br />‘But is that enough?’<br />‘I might have said yes once. But no it isn’t anymore. I need to tell him that.’<br />‘And you need to tell him what you want. I expect he’ll have all sorts of things he want to say to you. But stick to your guns.’<br />‘I should be flexible though shouldn’t I?’<br />‘Yeees but not at any cost. You have the right to decide what you want, how many times have I told you that this summer? If you want to stay here and make a life for yourself then you should. There is also the option of going back to London but not going back to James. If you feel you ought to give your old live another crack you could sell up here and buy yourself somewhere up there. Or you could keep this as a bolt hole and rent. You don’t have to decide today anyway. It’s unreasonable of him to expect you to decide anything without proper time to think.’<br />‘He’ll say I’ve had all summer to think about it. Instead I’ve been doing other things haven’t I?’<br />‘Ohh no. You’re not going to pin all this indecision on me.’<br />‘No I know. I have a lot to thank you for.’<br />‘You don’t have to thank me at all. You’ve given me a great summer.’ He gave her hand a squeeze.<br />‘Have I?’<br />‘It’ll take me a long time to forget you Gin.’<br />Imogen felt herself blush. She looked up and met his gaze. She didn’t need to say anything. The gate squeaked again and she sprang up.<br />‘That’ll be him.’<br />‘I’ll go.’<br />‘You don’t have to.’<br />‘Yes I do.’ He gave her a kiss on the cheek and went around the side of the house. He would cut through the hedge back to the farm.<br />Imogen smoothed her dress and patted at her hair. She felt like a little girl waiting to see the head master for a telling off. She could see the top of James’ head over the plants as he made his way up the garden path. Take a deep breath, stand your ground, remember the past and think about the future.<br />‘Hello James.’ She said as he came into view.<br />James looked up and stopped breathing. If she had ever looked so beautiful then he couldn’t remember. His heart leapt and he had to take a moment to steady himself.<br />‘Hello.’ It was all he could manage for the moment.<br />‘How are you?’<br />‘Fine. Fine. And you? You look well.’<br />‘Thank you. I am.’ This was worse than a job interview. They were being so politely formal with each other.<br />James kicked at a stone at the edge of the patio and looked around.<br />‘The garden’s beautiful.’<br />‘Thank you. It took a while to learn what was a weed and what was a plant.’ She smiled.<br />‘Umm.’<br />‘Shall I make some tea?’<br />‘Lovely.’ James said rather too quickly.<br />Imogen escaped into the cottage and headed for the kitchen. Leaving James to kick his stone around. This was going to be horrible. When she had seen him last night she had wanted to slap his face. Now her anger had lost its heat. She stood and rested her back against the bar of the Aga and waited for the kettle to boil. Out of the window she could see Frank bumping back to the fields. She wondered what James was doing out in the garden. She ran threw a long list of questions she wanted answered and tried to put them into some kind of order. Most important of all was his reasons for being here. Then she wanted to get the issue of the other women clear, how many, for how long and so on. She decided that that would do for starters, and anyway the kettle was boiling now. She got on and loaded a tray up with the tea things. She really didn’t want any more tea.<br />James was still standing on the edge of the patio when she came back out. He stood up straight and held out his hands to take the tray. Imogen let him. He stood back and waited while she unloaded and set everything out. Finally she tucked the tray away.<br />‘Shall we sit down?’ She indicated the chairs. James took the chair opposite her.<br />They sat in silence while Imogen poured their tea. She was going to have to get this going or they would be still sitting here making small talk at midnight.<br />‘Ok I’ll start.’ She said. ‘James what are you doing here?’<br />He was a little taken aback. Directness was not something he was used to from her.<br />‘I came to see you.’ He said simply, it was the truth after all.<br />‘Yes but why? Especially when I had asked you not to.’<br />‘I wanted to see you. It’s our anniversary. Seven years. I know I asked to come down and that you said no. But I couldn’t let this day pass without marking it.’<br />‘You’ve never bothered before.’ That was a bit harsh maybe, but it was true.<br />James flinched, he deserved that. ‘I know, and I’m sorry.’ What else could he say? Everything he had rehearsed in his head on his way down yesterday had deserted him as soon as he saw her standing there. All he wanted to do was hold her and kiss her. He knew that would definatly be the wrong thing, but the trouble was he wasn’t sure what the right thing was.<br />‘You did get my last letter didn’t you?’ Imogen asked.<br />‘Yes I did. That is partly why I’m here. There were things you said in it that I felt needed to be talked about face to face. I did try to call you, but I just seemed to keep getting the answer machine, and you never called me back.’<br />‘I know, I’m sorry. I thought I had said all I needed to in the letter. When I got your message I was surprised, I thought you would be glad. I didn’t think there was anything to talk about.’<br />‘Glad? Glad about what? You were talking about divorce. That’s a big deal Imogen, of course we need to talk about it. Why would you think I would be happy about getting divorced?’ He was stunned. She really did seem to think he would be happy to end their marriage.<br />‘To be honest I didn’t even think you would miss me that much.’<br />James was silent. He didn’t quite know how to answer.<br />‘I’m not going to lie to you. When I first realised what you had done I was angry. I got drunk a lot and missed meetings. I was angry that you had left without a word and I was angry that there was no one there to do all the things you used to do for me. I was sorry for myself and I didn’t think about you except to rant about the fact that you had left me with no clean shirts. I actually went out and bought a load of new shirts because I didn’t know how to work the washing machine. I was pathetic, I was a complete mess and not very nice to be around. I made Olwen cross several times, and your dad kept grinding his teeth at me. But things change, I changed. I started to think about things and then your letter came talking about divorce. That really did make me think. And I did start to miss you, properly miss you.’ James looked across hopefully.<br />‘For all the years we were together you never gave me any indication that you felt anything much for me. Even on our wedding day you were too busy with your business friends to dance with me. You got your secretary to send me flowers on our first anniversary but there has been nothing since, not even a card. You treated me as some kind of possession. How often did you ask me to change because you didn’t like what I was wearing? How many times did you tell me there were people coming for dinner, not ask me if you could bring people home for dinner? In fact I can’t remember you ever asking me anything. I’m a person James, with feelings, all I wanted you to do was acknowledge it.’ As she spoke she scanned his face for any sign of a reaction. James was wincing.<br />‘Olwen told me once that I should take the rod out from up my arse and stop thinking about things only in relation to how they affected me. She was right. I was selfish, arrogant, wrapped up in myself, all of that. Maybe I still am, maybe I always will be. There are all sorts of reasons why I became that person, some of which I will probably never even know about myself. I’m sorry for the way I treated you, but it was who I was at the time, I can’t change that.’ God this was hard. He had been doing a lot of soul searching over the summer, but no out loud.<br />‘I know. But I can’t change who I was either, and I can’t change how hurt I was. I can’t go back to that James.’ She looked directly at him, he was looking pale. This was obviously hard for him, but it wasn’t much fun for her either.<br />‘Nor do I. Your letter panicked me. I had convinced myself that you would be back. I decided if I didn’t think about the fact that you had left me then maybe you wouldn’t have. I’m sorry I don’t do things like this very well.’ He took a sip of his tea and shifted his weight.<br />There was another silence. James decided it was his turn to ask a direct question.<br />‘When I arrived last night there was someone else here.’<br />‘Yes there was.’ She had been waiting for this.<br />‘Who was he?’ He tried to keep his voice level.<br />‘That was Philip. He’s been working at the farm for the summer.’<br />She was obviously going to make him ask her outright.<br />‘Are the two of you in a relationship?’<br />‘You mean am I shagging him like you shagged God knows how many women? No, James I’m not. Whatever you thought you saw last night was probably wrong.’<br />Ouch! She may look like his Imogen but she didn’t talk like her. Well she had a right to be angry about the other women.<br />‘So what did I see?’ He asked calmly.<br />‘I don’t think that is any of your business.’<br />‘Please Imogen. I need to know.’ If this was the way he had made her feel over the years then he was truly sorry, she should have left him years ago.<br />‘We had been to the beach. Philip wanted to go in the sea and insisted I go to. We got very wet and very cold. I lent him my robe and hung his clothes out to dry while he had a shower. He had gotten changed while I was in the shower and I stayed in the bedroom. We are friends and nothing more.’<br />‘Thank you.’ He sighed with relief.<br />‘And what about you?’ She said quietly. ‘How many were there James? And how long did you treat me like a fool? I may have wanted to sleep with Philip, and I did want to. But I didn’t. Even though I had left you I knew if I let myself do it it would make me no better than you. I happen to have some respect for those vows we took. Even if it was all a bit of a farce. So tell me please James. How many and for how long?’ Her heart was pounding and she was starting to shake.<br />James nodded slowly. He had hoped this would come up later; after he had had a chance to redeem himself a little. Maybe if she was starting to warm to the new him, then she wouldn’t take it as badly as she was obviously about to do. He knew that if he stood any chance of a future with her then he had to be honest. He prayed it didn’t backfire.<br />‘About twenty and it had been going on long before I met you. It had always been an unspoken part of the job. If the wives were on side then you stood a better chance of getting the husbands to sign on the dotted line. I know how that sounds, and it probably was that sleazy. But at the time it seemed like no big deal. Everyone did it, still do I expect. I should have stopped when I married you, but it was never something I thought that much about. I was sure you would never find out.’<br />‘So that made it all right then did it?’ She was shaking now, and truing to hide it.<br />‘No. Well…yes at the time it did. It was a separate part of my life if that makes sense. It was so much a part of what I did that it didn’t occur to me to stop when I got married. I am so, so sorry Imogen.’ He ran his hands through his hair and looked down into his tea.<br />‘Did you give me any thought at all?’<br />James shook his head. ‘Not back then no.’ He couldn’t look at her.<br />‘So what changed? Did you suddenly develop a conscience?’ Imogen snorted.<br />‘Something like that. When you left I had no idea why. I honestly didn’t see any good reason why you would want to leave. Olwen told me a few things about myself that started to make me think. She can be very outspoken when she wants to be. I got angry with her to begin with. I didn’t want to hear. I didn’t think there was anything to criticise. I know, you don’t have to say it. She hinted that you might know about the others and that that might be one reason why you left. It made me feel dreadful. Then Mandy Colsanto turned up. Do you remember her?’<br />‘American, too much make up.’ Imogen wrinkled her nose.<br />‘That’s her. She kept asking where you were and I invented a bad bout of flu for you. She wouldn’t take no for an answer and turned up at home. I think she knew you weren’t ill and that there was something going on. She came on to me. I had been half expecting it. I thought it might have happened on previous visits. Anyway this time I couldn’t go though with it. She was standing so close that all I could smell was that dreadful perfume she wears. It made me feel sick. All I could see was your face and I just couldn’t do it. There was a time when it would have been so easy to take her up stairs, even in our house, although I have never done that before.’ he added hastily. ‘I had to get her out of your home, our home, before I vomited all over her. It was then that I realised just what you meant to me. Oh this is not really coming out right is it?’<br />‘I think it might be a good idea if you went now.’ Imogen said as calmly as she could.<br />‘Imogen please.’<br />‘No James. I want you to go. I need to think about this.’<br />‘Ok. But can I come back? Please. Let me take you out to dinner. We need to talk about this properly. I know you’re angry right now. And so you should be. But please let’s not leave it here.’<br />‘I think it would be better if you just went back to London and organised a solicitor.’<br />‘No, Imogen please. I have changed I swear.’ He begged. ‘Dinner tonight, please.’<br />‘I’ll meet you at your hotel at seven. Now please leave.’ She stood up to reinforce the fact that his time was up.<br />‘I’ll book a table.’ And he left.<br />Imogen stood for a long time without really knowing what she was doing or thinking. Eventually she started loading the tray with the tea things and took them into the kitchen. At the sink washing up she ran though what had just happened. She had been shocked when he told her how many women he had slept with while they were married. But than he had told her. There was a time when he would have tried to deny it and gotten angry with her for questioning him. He had changed. She could see that. Everything about him seemed to be different. He had listened to her for a start. And he seemed to be really upset by Philip. That was a surprise. Mind you he had a nerve to question her about Philip when he knew what he was guilty of. She wondered how much she could trust what he told her. He seemed to be telling her the truth. He looked embarrassed and awkward. And he did seem to be genuinely sorry about it all. Well we’ll see tonight, she thought.<br /><br />Cherith was pacing up and down Molly’s sitting room. She had asked Imogen to call her as soon as James left. It was nearly lunchtime. He must have been and gone by now. When the phone rang she jumped. She could hear Molly’s voice and was almost sure it was Imogen. Eventually Molly came into the sitting room with the phone.<br />‘It’s Ginny.’ Molly handed Cherith the phone.<br />‘Hello darling. Are you all right?’<br />‘Fine mum. He’s gone.’<br />‘Was it very awful?’<br />‘Very. Still at least it’s over for now. He wants to meet again tonight for dinner.’<br />‘Can I come over?’<br />‘Yes please.’<br />A few minuets later Cherith and Imogen were sitting at the garden table.<br />‘So.’ Cherith said. ‘Do you think you’ll be able to sort things out?’<br />‘Right now I don’t know. He dose seem different. I asked him outright about the other women and he didn’t try to deny it. He said that he had slept with about twenty women, all wives of clients, since we’ve been married. He was quite honest about it all. He said he was very sorry and that at the time it was just business.’<br />‘Bastard! Oh darling I’m so sorry.’<br />‘It’s not your fault mum.’<br />‘So what now?’<br />‘I don’t know. He does seem different. I think he has changed. I just wish I knew whether I can trust what he’s telling me.’<br />‘Are you going to see him tonight?’<br />‘I think so. I’m curious.’<br />The sound of the gate squeaking made both women turn around. Imogen thought it must be Philip coming to see if she was ok. She wanted to introduce him to Cherith. It was only fair really. She got up and went to meet him. As she stepped off the patio she stopped dead and went very pale.<br />‘Mum. I think you should come over here.’<br />‘What on earth’s the matter darling?’ Cherith hurried over.<br />Imogen pointed to where Henry was coming up the path.<br />‘Oh good God.’ Cherith groaned. ‘What on earth is he doing here?’<br />Henry looked across the garden and saw Cherith and Imogen standing as if they were waiting for him. Although he was still angry with Imogen he had to admit she looked better than she had for years. And there was Cherith. He was so relived to see her.<br />‘Hello Cherith.’<br />‘Henry. What the bloody hell are you doing here?’ She stood with her hand on her hips and a face like thunder.<br />That was a bit much. The least she could do was be pleased to see him.<br />‘I could ask you the same question. You were supposed to be home ages ago.’<br />‘I don’t remember making any promises.’<br />‘You said two days. You said you would be gone two days.’<br />‘And I decided to stay a little longer Henry.’ She gave him a look that dared him to challenge her.<br />Henry harrumphed and kicked around at the gravel on the path.<br />‘Well seeing as you’re here you might as well come and sit down.’ Cherith gave a little half smile. She was going to enjoy this.<br />‘Hello dad.’ Imogen had been hanging back behind her mother, but now she stepped forward.<br />‘Oh…yes…hello.’ He looked across at his daughter. There was a lot he wanted to say to her.<br />‘Did you know James was coming? Have you two cooked all this up between you?’ Cherith said. She kept her eyes steadily on him. Years of experience had taught her to tell instantly when he was lying. He had a way of sliding his eyes slightly sideways.<br />‘No. The first I knew of it was when I saw him this morning at breakfast.’ His eyes stayed where they were.<br />‘You mean you’re staying in the same hotel?’ Cherith tried to keep the amusement out of her voice.<br />‘Bloody nightmare. We have not been on very good terms lately.’<br />‘Oh?’ Cherith raised an eyebrow. It must be serious if Henry had fallen out with his blue-eyed boy.<br />‘He’s left the firm! Can you believe it? He’s gone and set up on his own. Cheeky sods taken half my best clients with him too.’<br />‘Good for him.’ Cherith said.<br />‘Cherith!’ Henry‘s mouth flapped like a stranded Haddock.<br />‘Oh for goodness sake Henry. It was only a matter of time before he did something like that. He’s too good at what he does to stay working in a time locked place like yours. I know you built it up greatly after your father, but you’ve been standing still for years. James took things forward for a while, but there’s only so much he can do.’<br />‘What about good old fashioned loyalty?’ She seemed to be echoing everything he had been hearing over the last few days. It seemed everyone was suddenly against him. He had hoped she would back him up and he could get back to normal. Now it seemed things would never be the same again.<br />‘Loyalty is like respect Henry. To get it you have to earn it.’<br />‘And what is that supposed to mean?’<br />‘The letters Henry.’<br />‘Oh.’<br />‘Oh indeed.’<br />Imogen decided to leave them to it and crept into the house.<br />‘You broke into my desk.’ Henry tried to sound indignant.<br />‘Don’t change the subject. You knew very well how I felt about you and you knew how scared I was of loosing you. You kept those letters hidden and made sure you never gave your feelings away. You played games with me all our married life and that is unforgivable. You used those letters as a way of controlling me. And it worked to. For years I was so unsure of your feelings for me that I was willing to do anything to keep you. And how much did you love that? When I kept loosing the babies I was convinced you were going to leave me. I was sick with fear. You stood by and watched me go through that and never said a word. I’ve herd of manipulation Henry, but you take the biscuit.’<br />Henry was silent. What could he say to all that? Everything she had said was true. He would like to say that he hadn’t done any of it deliberately, but that would be a lie. He knew how much she had loved him when the first married. And he knew how insecure she was. He used that to his advantage and quickly discovered that it was possible to get his own way in everything simply by acting a little cool towards her. As soon as she thought he was in any way displeased with her she would give in and go along with whatever he said. Now he saw how hurt she was, how angry she was. Whatever he might be he was nothing without Cherith. Had he pushed his luck too far this time?<br />‘I’m sorry.’ He said eventually, his red face turning very pale.<br />‘Is that it? Is that all I get? Well in that case I think you might as well go home Henry.’ Cherith started to rise from her chair.<br />‘No. I mean…I don’t want to.’<br />‘And you always have to have what you want don’t you?’<br />‘I didn’t mean it like that.’<br />‘So what do you mean?’ Cherith raised her eyebrows and leaned back in her chair.<br />‘I want you to come home with me. I need you to.’ He was turning very red, but this time not from rage. He twisted around in his chair and looked down at his feet.<br />‘Why?’<br />‘I’m sorry?’ He blinked hard.<br />‘Why do you need me to come home? You have Mrs Davis to come in and clean for you and you have your club to go to for you meals. You have endless staff at the offices to do all your running around. And you can well afford to pay someone to come in and do you laundry and any other little jobs. You really don’t need me at all.’<br />Henry screwed his face up and clenched his fists. He was going to have to say it.<br />‘I love you.’ He whispered.<br />‘I’m sorry Henry did you say something?’ She couldn’t help it. She had heard perfectly well but his discomfort at having to say it was priceless.<br />He took a deep breath and lifted his head to look her in the eyes.<br />‘I love you Cherith.’<br />‘Well done. Now we’ve got that clear shall we go and find some tea?’ Hard as she tried Cherith couldn’t take the grin off her face. They had been married thirty-five years and that was the first time he had ever said that to her.<br /><br /><br /><br />Chapter Eighteen.<br /><br />James sat on the edge of his hotel bed and ran his hands through his hair. This morning had not gone well. He wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting. He knew he had changed but he had somehow imagined her to have stayed the same. That was stupid of course. She looked so beautiful, so much like the girl he had married. But she had grown up. She had found out a lot about herself over the summer, that was obvious. When he had decided to come he was sure he would be able to talk her around. She would be impressed with his new business, his new look and his new attitudes. Now he was worried that she was really serious about a divorce. It was one thing to talk a client out of going with another firm; he could do that all day long. But talking your wife out of divorcing you, that was going to be a challenge.<br />He took the ring box out of his jacket pocket. The eternity ring that was sitting there in the window of one of the jewellers in the Burlington Arcade now sat in his hand. He had got her engagement ring from there, and their wedding rings. Now he’d gone back to buy a white gold band encrusted with white diamonds. He hadn’t asked the man how much, just handed over his card, whatever the price Imogen was worth it. Now he cringed at how corny it all was. What did he think he was going to do with it? Did he think that she would take one look at it and fly into his arms and forgive him everything? He still had a lot to learn if he thought that an expensive bauble would be enough. It was all he had ever done after all, throw money at her. This morning she had made it clear that what she had wanted, needed, from him was respect and consideration. If he gave her the ring now it would make him look shallow. It would make him look as if he hadn’t been listening to her at all. He put it away in his pocket. There may come a day when he could present it to her, but that time was a long way off.<br />For now he had to get through dinner. There was still so much he wanted to tell her. He prayed she would let him. He had a horrid feeling he was going to end up with his dinner in his lap and his wine poured over his head. Maybe this morning was it. Maybe she had gotten her anger over and done with. Maybe she never would get over it. And maybe he couldn’t blame her for that. He had a lot of ground to make up and a lot of grovelling to do. But there had to be a limit. Even though he deserved her anger he wasn’t going to take it forever, he couldn’t. If she couldn’t get over it, if he couldn’t get her over it, then he would have to admit that it really was all over. Thinking like that made him shudder and he pushed the thought away. He had to try and be positive.<br />At least the boy, or Philip as he now knew him to be, wasn’t going to be an issue. There had obviously been something between them, but he was glad that it didn’t seem to be serious. Friends she had said, but he knew the look on Philip’s face when he let him in that night. She might not be in love with Philip, but Philip was in love with her. And he had seen the look of horror on Imogen’s face when she saw him standing there. They may not have had anything to feel guilty about, but she had felt guilty none the less. He hoped that that was a good thing. He hoped that that meant that there might be some hope for him. She had said she still had respect for their wedding vows, which was encouraging.<br /><br />He looked at his watch. It was only four o’clock. What was there to do in a small seaside town at the end of summer? He would go out and find out. This place obviously meant a lot to Imogen and it wouldn’t do him any harm to find out why. He put his jacket back on and went out into the afternoon sunshine. It was very beautiful. Just opposite the hotel was the little harbour. Fishing boats bobbed about in the water and their rigging clanked and jangled. He bought himself an ice cream from the kiosk on the harbour side. Sea gulls screeched over his head and eyed up his cornet. Everything was starting to close down now. A couple more weeks and it would all be over for the year. The schools had already gone back and the streets were quite. A few retired couples wandered around, like him killing time before dinner. Soon the locals would reclaim their town again, until Easter.<br />After the second turn around the main streets he went back to the hotel. If he took a shower, a long shower, and took his time getting changed then the time might not drag too much.<br /><br />Imogen opened the bottle of wine and poured herself and Philip a glass.<br />‘It didn’t go well then?’ He asked.<br />‘I don’t know how it was supposed to go really. Do these things ever go well?’<br />‘Probably not.’<br />‘Anyway we’re holding round two over dinner. I wanted him to go, but he asked, begged actually. And he had a real bee in his bonnet over you. It upset him seeing you there last night. He put two and two together and got five, serves him right. Oh listen to me, God what a bitch.’ She put her head in her hands and screwed her eyes up.<br />‘Not a bitch. Just someone who’s been hurt.’<br />‘I’m really going to miss you. Who’s going to hold my hand once you’re gone?’<br />‘You don’t need me to do that anymore.’<br />‘I’ll still miss you.’<br />‘I’ll miss you to.’<br />‘What time‘s the flight?’<br />‘Three in the afternoon. Uni starts in three weeks and there are things I need to do before then. And I should spend some time with the olds before I go. Uni’s a hundred miles away so I’ll be living in.’<br />‘No sleep or proper food for a while then.’<br />‘Probably not. Mum’ll want to feed me up before I go. It’ll be good to see them all.’<br />‘You must miss them?’<br />‘Heaps. More than I thought I would, but not as much as I’m going to miss you. Sorry, not helpful.’<br />‘Nice though.’ Imogen smiled. It was a nice feeling to think he was going to miss her, but she hoped he wouldn’t miss her too much.<br />‘So tonight. What’s the plan?’<br />‘I don’t think I have one. I’ll see what he has to say. I’ll say what I need to say. And we’ll take it from there.’<br />‘That sounds like a plan to me. I’d better go. You’ll want to get ready. Can I come and see you tomorrow? And can I ask a favour?’<br />‘I should think so.’<br />‘Could you give me a lift to the airport?’<br />‘I should think so.’ Imogen bit her lip as she watched him leave.<br /><br />The restaurant at the hotel was almost deserted. James sat at the table and fiddled with the napkin. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this nervous. He hoped that was a good sign. He also hoped he didn’t blow tonight like he nearly had this morning. He looked at his watch again. Five minutes had passed, was that all? He looked around and tried to find something to focus on. He was just about to give in to temptation and order a large whisky when he saw Imogen arrive.<br />‘Hello.’ James stood up and went to help her with her jacket.<br />‘Thank you.’ She handed it to him and he handed it to the waiter.<br />‘Is this all right? We could move nearer to the window?’<br />‘This is fine.’<br />‘Good…Good. Shall we sit?’ He pulled her chair out for her.<br />‘Thank you.’<br />‘Can I get you a drink?’<br />‘White wine please.’ He hadn’t already ordered? She raised an eyebrow.<br />‘Can we have a bottle of white wine please? And the menu.’ He said to the waiter.<br />‘You haven’t looked at the menu yet?’<br />‘No. I thought I’d wait for you.’<br />‘Oh?’<br />‘I know. I’m sorry I used to do that. It was rude. You choose whatever you like. Have three puddings if you want. And I won’t say anything about garlic, or too much alcohol, or shell on prawns.’<br />‘Thank you.’ Better and better, she couldn’t help smiling.<br />When the waiter returned with the wine James indicated that he should let Imogen try it first. And when he came back to take their order he let her order first and said nothing when she ordered salmon mouse followed by roast cod, in fact he said he would have the same.<br />‘This is lovely.’ He said.<br />‘I thought you said never to have fish with fish.’<br />‘I used to say a lot of thing that turned out to be complete rubbish.’<br />They ate in silence for a while. It wasn’t exactly that there was an elephant in the room, more like a few small hippos.<br />‘I’m sorry I threw you out this morning.’ Imogen said at last. ‘It wasn’t the most grown up thing to do.’<br />‘You were angry. I knew you would be when that subject came up. To be honest I was hoping it wouldn’t. Still it’s out there now isn’t it? How did you know?’ He had been wondering all day.<br />‘I didn’t, not for sure. It was something that came to me.’ How was she going to explain that her dead aunt had given her the idea? ‘I was sitting in the garden thinking about it all. I realised how easy it would be for you. It was not long after I met Philip. I admit that I was thinking of him a lot in the way a married woman shouldn’t think about another man. We did kiss once or twice, but that was as far as it went. It made me think how you would feel if you found out. Then I started to put two and two together. I realised that it was very likely you had been cheating on me for years. It suddenly seemed to make sense. There were a few odd phone messages. A few strange comments from your colleges and a lot of the wives were over friendly with you. I dismissed it at the time, or decided not to admit it to myself.’<br />‘I’m sorry I caused you so much pain. Please believe me, I was never cheating on you in the way you’re thinking. I never had an affair. I never had a relationship with another woman. It was sex, just sex. And not even for pleasure. Oh this makes me sound like such a creep. I hate what I used to be. I wish I could change it, make it go away. But I can’t. I really am so, so sorry Imogen.’<br />Imogen sighed. What more could be said on the subject? He had admitted it all and apologised. She had let him know how angry she was and he had taken it and apologised again. There would really be no point in dragging it out any further. It would take a long time before she could forget it, if she ever did. And it might be a while before she forgave him completely. But she had been nearly as bad. Philip had been a big temptation which she had nearly given in to.<br />‘Shall we agree to just let it be? I accept that you’re sorry. I think I believe you. I think it would be better if we try and get beyond it.’<br />‘That sound like a good idea to me. I was shocked when I saw Philip in your bathrobe. But I believe you when you say there was nothing between you. I appreciate that you didn’t give in to your feelings, it means a lot.’<br />‘Ok then. Shall we have pudding?’<br />Imogen decided that, nice as they all sounded, she could only manage one desert. Eventually she went for a dark chocolate mouse with raspberries. James, who never usually had sweet things, went for a lemon fool.<br />‘I have a bit of news actually.’ James said.<br />‘Oh yes?’<br />‘I’ve parted company with your father and started up on my own.’<br />‘I know. I was surprised I must say. I thought you two were inseparable.’ She heard Henry saying something about it to Cherith that afternoon.<br />‘Perhaps we were for a time. But I didn’t like the way he behaved when he found out that you had left. He was so wrapped up in how it was affecting him and the business. I admit I thought the same way for a while. Anyway he kept on and on at me. I deserved some of it. I was turning up late, and not very well turned out. But after a while I looked at him and realised how much I was turning into him. Sorry, I know he’s you father.’<br />‘Don’t be sorry. I know exactly what he can be like. And I have to say I was starting to wonder if I hadn’t, in fact, married my father.’<br />‘Point taken. Why did you never tell me any of this when we were together?’<br />‘Would you have listened?’<br />‘Probably not.’<br />‘And anyway I probably couldn’t have. I wouldn’t have known what to say or how to say it. And I would have been terrified of your reaction.’<br />‘Was I really that bad?’<br />‘Looking back, no. At the time I was scared of my own shadow. I had you on one side and dad on the other. I didn’t stand a chance. I needed to get away from everything, not just you. I was drowning. I had so much and I felt so guilty that I wasn’t happy. I tried to blame you and I tried to blame dad. The truth is that if I had been a different person it would all have been very different.’ Imogen scraped the bottom of the dish and wondered if there was any chance she could fit another one in without being sick, no better not.<br />‘We should never have gotten married should we?’ James said. The lemon fool had been fantastic and he wondered why he had never bothered with desert before.<br />‘No. At least not when we did. I knew what dad was up to you know. I knew I was part of some kind of bargain. Back then I didn’t know how to say no to him. Mum never did. Rowena always did and it led to some dreadful rows. I couldn’t bare the thought of his disapproval. I saw how he would let it fester. If I upset him once he would never have forgiven me.’<br />‘I was greedy. I can’t tell you how many times over this summer I have cursed him, and me, for using you like that. I’m going to spend all night saying sorry aren’t I?’ James tried to raise a smile.<br />‘You don’t have to apologise, but it’s nice that you feel you can. And I have to as well.’<br />‘What on earth for?’<br />‘For not being everything you were expecting. I wasn’t the kind of woman you should have married.’<br />‘Is that what you thought?’<br />‘Most of the time.’<br />‘Oh Imogen. I’ve been thinking the same thing. I mean that I wasn’t the sort of man you should have married.’<br />‘Would you have asked me if it hadn’t been for dad?’<br />James went quiet. He knew he had to be truthful, even if it got him nothing but a slap in the face.<br />‘To be honest I probably wouldn’t even have asked you out. Not because I didn’t like you.’ he added in a hurry. ‘But you were much too young for me. I thought you were very pretty though.’<br />‘Thank you. I think. Dad made you ask me out didn’t he? I’ve always known, deep down. I knew he was behind it all long before Rowena said anything.’<br />‘Yes he did. I could say that it was all my own doing. But he did make suggestions yes.’<br />‘And he offered you promotions in exchange for being nice to me?’ Imogen saw the look on James’ face. ‘Please James.’<br />‘Yes he did.’ James hung his head. ‘Oh bloody hell. I’ve been over this in my head a hundred times, and I’ve had it out with Henry. But sitting here with you in front of me, shit.’ He ran his hands through his hair.<br />‘I’m not angry, not any more. I was when I first got here. Everything that had been building up over the last few years came flooding out when I was finally on my own. I’d never let myself think about it all while I was in London. I’ve been over it again and again. Molly has and opinion, Eleanor has an opinion, Rowena had an opinion. It seemed everyone did except me.’ She smiled a thin smile. ‘When I did start to think about it I did get angry for a while. That’s over now. I expect he made it all sound so attractive, wrapped it all up so that it seemed like the best thing all round. Am I right?’<br />‘Something like that. He said I would be taking a great weight off of his mind. If we were married then he knew you were being looked after. He said that you weren’t very strong and that he worried. Then he said that, of course, if I were part of the family then I would always be given first refusal on any promotions that might come up. And that as his son-in-law it would be perfectly natural for him to hand everything over to me in time.’<br />‘He’s good. You have to hand it to him. He told me how much I needed looking after and that you would be good for me. I think there might have been some truth to it. Mum lost two babies before I came along.’<br />‘I didn’t know that.’<br />‘Not many people did.’<br />‘I’m not sure if that makes it better or worse. He sold you to me Imogen. And I bought you.’<br />‘I suppose you could put it like that. That’s how Rowena saw it. She tried very hard to talk me out of marrying you.’ She caught the waiter’s eye and ordered coffee. She saw the look of surprise on James’ face.<br />‘Sorry did you not want coffee?’ She asked.<br />‘Yes I do. I was just…’<br />‘Surprised that I did it without asking you or waiting for you to do it?’<br />‘Yes. You’ve changed.’<br />‘I hope so. For the better?’<br />‘I think so. I think we both have.’<br />‘You certainly have. No tie for a start.’ She indicated his open necked shirt that he was wearing under his linen jacket.<br />‘I had a clear out when I started up on my own. I decided I needed a new look.’<br />‘It suits you.’<br />‘Thank you.’<br />‘So how’s the new business going?’<br />‘Better than I could have hoped. Flora has come with me. I had so many phone calls asking what I was up to and could they be part of it. Henry’s spitting. I didn’t poach anyone though, whatever he says. We’ve just moved into a new office, brand new, all shiny chrome and glass. The house is a mess though, paper everywhere. I had no idea how much time it would all take. Some days I didn’t bother going to bed. I wanted to come down two weeks ago, but it all got a bit much. Then I realised that I was putting work before you again. I called Flora and told her she was in charge and got in the car. I’ve even turned my phone off.’<br />‘Blimey.’<br />‘Imogen come back with me.’ He reached over and took hold of her hands. ‘Please come back to London with me.’<br />Imogen shook her head.<br />‘Sorry. Of course you want to think about it all. And so should I. Ok, no pressure. But if you want to I’ll put the house on the market. You can choose where we live. If you don’t want to stay in London then we can move to the counties. I could work from home part of the week.’<br />‘I don’t know James. This is all a bit too soon. A few days ago I was convinced we were going to get divorced. Now you’ve thrown all this at me and I need to think about it. And you need to think about it. I’m not the same person I was James. You might decide you don’t really want me back after all.’<br />‘I’ll never think that. But you’re right. Let’s call it a day for tonight. You know where I am.’<br />‘Yes.’ Imogen got up and the waiter brought her coat.<br />‘Can I call you in a day or two?’<br />‘In a day or two.’claire phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16313963622279623204noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5637493278275929558.post-661865248124845132009-03-02T06:12:00.000-08:002009-03-02T06:13:51.427-08:00Mulberry Gin Chapters 15 & 16Chapter Fifteen.<br /><br />James’ foot hit the bottom step of the stairs just as the post plopped through the letterbox. He scooped it up on his way to the kitchen. He had got quite a good routine. Get up, bathroom, downstairs, coffee, collect the post, take coffee and post back to bed, read post, shower, dress, downstairs, more coffee and toast, then whatever the day brought. Today it brought a letter from Imogen.<br />He tore the pale pink envelope open, nearly tearing the letter as well. A second piece of paper fell out onto the bed, it was an address for a Mr Pengellan, James frowned. She was still talking about divorce, and the address was her solicitor. This was getting stupid. Was she deliberately misunderstanding him or was he just not making himself clear? He gave a huge sigh. She wouldn’t speak to him and wouldn’t let him go and see her to sort this mess out. It was as if she was cutting him out of her life just when he most wanted to be a part of it. He ran his hand through his hair. What more could he do? Pack a bag and go to Cornwall. But he’d just sent out all those letters and he had to have something to tell people when they started calling. He needed to get an office of some sort up and running. Why did everything have to happen at once?<br />‘Bollocks!’ He said out loud. Think James. How long will it take to get things up and running? A week? Henry was away so he could go in and get all his files and papers, clear out his office and make Flora a job offer. Most of what he needed was in his head. The most important thing to have was experience and contacts, and he had both in spades. Right so do all that, then leave everything to Flora for a couple of days, divert all calls to your mobile and go. It would also give Imogene a few days to rethink. Hopefully by the time he got there she would have changed her mind.<br /><br />Cherith was full of apologies when she arrived at Mulberry that morning.<br />‘Darling I’m so sorry I didn’t come back over yesterday. I’m afraid I fell asleep on Molly’s sofa. By the time I woke up it was time for bed.’<br />‘That’s ok mum.’<br />‘But I want to spend as much time with you as I can.’<br />‘Well we have all day. What would you like to do?’<br />‘I thought Truro sounded nice. Molly was telling me all about the ‘proper’ shops as she calls them. I can’t remember the last time we went shopping together.’<br />‘Christmas three years ago.’ Imogen said.<br />‘Was it that long? Oh dear. Shall we make up for it today then?’<br />‘Sounds lovely. We’ll make a day of it, have lunch.’<br />‘I do love you Imogen. You do know that don’t you?’ Cherith’s voice was suddenly very quiet and she looked down at the floor as she spoke. She’d wanted to say it for weeks but somehow it never seemed the right time, now it just came out in a rush, almost a whisper under her breath.<br />‘I know mum. And I love you. I’m sorry I’m not the daughter you wanted.’ It was Imogen’s turn to become quiet.<br />‘Oh darling!’ Cherith jumped up and took hold of Imogen’s hands. ‘Look at me.’ She tilted her head to catch Imogen’s eyes.<br />‘Don’t ever say that, don’t even think it.’<br />‘But I let you down. You wanted me to settle down with James, with the big house and the pension plan. Have children, a cottage in the country and a dog. I did try, honestly I did. I tried so hard.’ Tears were starting to cloud her eyes. ‘I thought if I could make James love me and make him happy, then that would make you and dad happy. I really wanted to make dad happy with me.’ She gulped for breath and let the tears roll down her face.<br />Cherith dropped her hands and held her tight. Imogen was a little girl again, needing her mum, or was it the other way around? She was crying herself now.<br />‘He was darling, we both were.’<br />‘No, no he stopped loving me when he sent me away to school. I did something. I don’t know what I did. What did I do?’<br />‘You didn’t do anything. Your father never stopped loving you darling. Why ever did you think that?’<br />‘He stopped me coming down here when he knew how much I loved it. Then he sent me away to school. Then he made me marry James when he knew I didn’t want to.’ Imogen was sobbing now. She should have said all this a long time ago.<br />‘He didn’t do any of that because he didn’t love you.’<br />‘So why?’<br />‘Your father changed, that’s true. But it had nothing to do with you. For years I thought it was me, something I had done. I told you, didn’t I, about finding the letters?’ Cherith guided Imogen over to the table and sat her down. She pulled another chair up to face her.<br />‘When I married your father I was so in love with him I thought I would burst. I didn’t think he loved me, but I didn’t care, I was so happy he wanted to marry me. Everything was fine for the first few years. He was a lovely man to be married to. And he adored you, he really did. He changed when he took over the company from his father. It just seemed to go to his head. Then the rows with Rowena started again. She could see what he was becoming and was trying to stop it. All it did was make him worse. He was never emotional, never sentimental, but he did have a softer side. I have no idea why he and Rowena hated each other. It went back to way before I met him, to their childhood. I tried hard not to get involved but it was heartbreaking to see them. You obviously remember that last row when we came down to fetch you after that last holiday. It had nothing to do with you, not really. It made me so cross that he used you like that, that was something I never thought he would do.’<br />Imogen nodded, it was all she could manage.<br />‘Was it because I was a girl?’ She finally said.<br />‘No! It was never an issue. We tried so hard for so long to have a baby, neither of us cared what we had. When I found out I was pregnant all either of us could think of was to have a healthy baby at last, nothing else. I’ve never told you this but I had lost two before you, both miscarriages at about ten week. It’s something I would never wish on anyone. So you were very much wanted, by both of us.’ Cherith gave great enforces to the last sentence. ‘If I had been a better mother then you would have come to me with all this years ago. I was always jealous of Rowena you know. I knew you were so close to her and probably told her things you didn’t tell me.’<br />Imogen nodded ‘I did. You were always defending dad and taking his side. I daren’t criticise him to you. But that’s not a bad thing mum, loving dad that much isn’t a bad thing. I didn’t understand it as a child but I do now.’<br />‘Thank you darling. We’re both guilty of thinking we can change men by loving them aren‘t we? You saw me trying so hard to make you father love me and you thought you had to do the same, but you didn’t. You father loves you, he always loved you. And, as it turned out, he always loved me too. The problem was never us you see, it was him. He’s not really a bad person, not bad. He’s selfish, he’s stubborn, he’s arrogant, even rude sometimes, but not bad. He’s not good at showing his feelings and he is guilty of using people to get his way. I hated him for bullying you. But I hated myself for letting him. He’s such a bulldozer at times, when he’s on a roll there’s nothing you can do.’<br />‘He hid the letters on purpose didn’t he?’<br />‘Yes I think he did. I knew he was manipulative, and it was fine when it was just me. But he should never have brought you into it. I think it will take me a long time to forgive him for that. I understand why he hid the letters. While I thought I had to work to keep him he was guaranteed to get his own way. Well no longer. Poor Henry, he’s not going to know what’s hit him.’<br />‘Oh why do things have to get so complicated?’ Imogen sighed. She had stopped crying now and was wiping her eyes on some kitchen paper.<br />‘It’s what happens when people start living together. Rowena knew that, it’s one reason she chose to live alone down here. Other people have a nasty habit of thinking differently to us. We start to play games with each other in order to get our own way. Henry saw you as fair game like everyone else. I think there were issues with his parents, he never talked about his childhood much. I gather he didn’t get along well with his father. He was sent away to school at six years old. Can you imagine? What message must that give to a child? Especially when Rowena had been allowed to stay at home and go to a local school. I know it has become a fashionable cop out to blame your childhood for everything, but I think, in your father’s case, it might have some truth. If you’re not shown much love then how can you ever learn to give it? James was sent off to school to wasn’t he?’<br />‘At about seven I think. Mind you so was his brother, and he’s completely different to James. I suppose it dose explain a lot though. So what happens now do you think?’<br />‘I don’t know darling. One thing is for sure though. Neither of us will let either of them bully us again, will we?’<br />‘Not bloody likely!’ They toasted each other with their mugs of tea.<br /><br />James had spent the whole morning packing his working life into cardboard boxes. How had he accumulated so much crap? It was everywhere. Stuff, piles and piles of stuff. Flora came in and quietly set a cup of coffee down amongst it all. She gave a brief, nervous smile. She was still not quite sure what to make of things. One day Mr Lampress was shouting at her and making her cry again, the next he was smiling at her, and now he was clearing his office, all very strange. Gossip was he had had some kind of breakdown. He certainly didn’t look right, for one thing he was still smiling. How many people smiled when they were obviously out of a job? Not many. It was a shame. He may have been a bastard, and she may have been terrified of him, but he was bloody good at his job. It was quite impressive the way he could turn a deal in a matter of minutes, even when it seemed lost. And he was dedicated, you had to give him that. He would be here all night sometimes. For years she had wished for this day, for him to be gone. Now it was happening she wanted him to stay, God knows who would replace him.<br />‘Flora don’t run off. I want to talk to you.’ James looked up from a pile of papers.<br />Flora was at the door and his voice made her freeze. What had she done? She tried hard to think. Nothing, she had done nothing wrong, he hadn’t even been here for goodness sake. She stood expectantly in the doorway, he hand clasped behind her back.<br />‘Are you happy here?’<br />‘I’m sorry?’ She didn’t understand.<br />‘Do you like it here, would you take another job if it was offered?’<br />Oh God he was sacking her. ‘Have I done something wrong Mr Lampress?’ She looked close to tears.<br />‘No you’ve done nothing wrong. I’m setting up on my own and I need a PA. I was wondering if you would be interested? We’ve worked together long enough for you to know how I operate. And I know I can trust you. I know I’ve not been the best boss over the years, and I’ sorry about that. But things would be different this time. To begin with there would be no Mr March.’ He smiled. Flora couldn’t help smiling too. If one thing was worse than working for Mr Lampress then it was working for Mr March. She knew his secretary and she really didn’t know how she found the will to get up in the mornings.<br />‘So what do you think? There will be a lot of work to begin with. I haven’t even got an office yet. But once we’re set up it should be great.’<br />Flora didn’t know what to say, she thought he didn’t like her. PA would be a big step up. But if it didn’t work then she’d be up shit creak. Then again she hated it here. Being able to put PA on her CV would look good when she needed to get another job.<br />‘Ok.’ She said at last.<br />‘Great. Start packing your desk up. I’m going to need you to start right away. I need to go away for a few days soon so we need to get cracking. Your first job is to find us some premises. Offices. With their own entrance. Above a shop would do, but in a proper block would be better. Can I leave that with you while I get rid of all this? Oh and here’s my home address, we’ll be based from there until we get somewhere else.’<br />‘Right.’ Flora said a little shell-shocked. ‘I’ll start phoning some agents.’<br /><br />Three hours later they were standing outside an office block on the edge of the square mile. Flora had been impressive in her gusto at getting them offices. James looked up and nodded.<br />‘Very good. How much?’<br />Flora told him the monthly rental.<br />‘Fucking hell! Well it is a good location, impressive address on the notepaper. Let’s have a look now we’re here.’<br />It was very bright and shiny, lots of chrome and glass, the complete opposite of the wood panelling and thick carpets of Henry’s offices. It was a purpose built block rather than converted Georgian town houses. It was very, very tempting. It would send out all the right messages. It would show that he had broken completely from Henry, that this was a new business. It would show that he was looking forward and not stuck in the past. Working from home might give him flexibility, but did he really want Flora there all day and clients traipsing in and out all the time, and what would Imogen think to her home being turned into a business? No this would definatly be better, and they could move in almost right away. James felt the hairs on the back of his neck starting to bristle. Those little hairs never failed to point him in the direction of a good deal, they never let him down. He looked across at Flora who was listening intently to the agent, who was banging on about how brilliant it was here and they would be mad to look anywhere else. He had tuned out as soon as the boy, James was sure he was only twelve, opened his mouth. Flora was nodding vigorously.<br />‘We’ll take it.’ James said, stopping the other two in their tracks.<br /><br />Imogen parked the car in the muti story behind Marks and Spencer’s. It had been an emotional morning but nothing got in the way of women and shopping. A good mooch around the shops could cure almost everything, or at least stop you thinking about it for a while. They got out of the lift and headed straight for the coffee shop.<br />‘So what do you want to take home then?’ Imogen asked while they queued with their trays.<br />‘I don’t know. It had better be small. I don’t want to rub Henry’s noise in it by having something huge that he has to look at everyday. And I’ve got to get it in the car.’<br />‘There are some nice little bits of china.’ Imogen suggested.<br />They found a table and sat down.<br />‘That sounds nice. We’ll have a look later.’ Cherith poured her tea. ’Have you got any plans for Mulberry Cottage, redecoration or anything?’ She said tentatively.<br />‘No.’ Imogen frowned and looked down into her tea.<br />‘But is it healthy to keep it just as Rowena left it? If it’s going to be your home then shouldn’t you make it yours?’<br />Imogen was silent for a while. Change things? She pursed her lips. She knew she owned it, that was fact. But it was Rowena’s home, just like London was James’. Although she had had no trouble in settling in to Mulberry Cottage she did still feel like she was on holiday. Maybe that was because it still looked like it did when she was there on holidays. If she was going to live there then maybe she should make it more her own. She flinched at the idea of having to choose new things. She had grown up with her parent’s decorative decisions, then had to live with James’, now she was living with Rowena’s. Could she make such decisions she wondered? But Cherith was right, it was her home now. Perhaps it wasn’t right to keep the place as a museum to her aunt.<br />‘I haven’t really thought.’ She said at last.<br />‘Well you could start with those huge, thick velvet curtains. They are rather morbid looking you have to admit.’<br />‘I never really liked them much.’ Imogen did admit. It felt disloyal. But the curtains in the sitting room were hideous. Thick, heavy, dark brown velvet which had faded to a rather dodgy sludge colour around the edges.<br />‘Well we’re in the right place. Why not get some new ones, and maybe some cushions to match?’<br />They spent the rest of the day scouring Truro for ‘Imogen’ things to turn Mulberry into a home for her.<br /><br />They arrived back at the cottage laden with bags. Putting them down in on the sitting room floor the rug disappeared completely.<br />‘I think we may have forgotten how small this place is.’ Imogen said a little concerned. ‘I don’t think it will take any more stuff.’<br />‘Perhaps it’s time to sort out what of Rowena’s you really want to keep. We can do it together.’ Cherith said gently.<br />Her mother was right, Imogen knew. She had been there for weeks and so far she hadn’t changed anything. When she arrived she brought hardly anything with her, and those things had quickly got swallowed. If she was going to live here permanently then she should make it hers with touches of Rowena here and there rather than the other way round.<br />‘We’re going to need a lot of boxes.’ Imogen said looking around her. ‘I don’t want to bin anything.’<br />‘Oh no! I’m not saying you should get rid of anything. But the garage is big. And there must be a lot of stuff in the shed that could be removed.’<br />‘I try hard not to go in the shed. I don’t understand why men have such a thing for them. They’re dark, smelly and full of spiders.’ And man-eating mowers, Imogen pulled a face.<br />‘They say a mans shed is like a woman’s’ handbag. All I can say is I hope not. One good thing about your father is he has never had a shed. Not of his own. The one in the garden is the territory of the gardener and God forbid anyone who sets foot in it.’<br />‘James is the same. He bought out gardener a new one last year but has never been in it himself. Maybe that’s what’s wrong with them both, they need a shed.’ They both laughed.<br />‘Maybe.’<br /><br />Imogen went and fetched a roll of black bags and took them through to the bedroom. Cherith followed. When she opened the wardrobe Cherith could see that all Rowena’s clothes were still there. Some had been pushed up to make space for some of Imogen’s, but there they all were.<br />‘Oh darling. I thought you would have at least cleared the wardrobe.’ Cherith sighed.<br />‘I wanted to. I should have done. I couldn’t. I know, I know.’ She said when Cherith raided her eyebrows.<br />‘Let’s get it over with then.’<br />Imogen pulled out arms full of clothes. Some of them were older that she was. There were the designer labels from Rowena’s London days. She had no idea they were there, they were beautiful. A lot of the more recent stuff she recognised. It was easy to get rid of the things bought in recent years that she had never seen, they had not pull. But the flowing kaftans and sweeping skirts she remembered from childhood were harder. Then there was the vintage, most of which would fit her. She looked pleadingly at Cherith, who was holding a black bag open.<br />‘Charity shop?’ Cherith suggested.<br />‘Ok. But only these.’ Imogen pointed at the small pile at her feet.<br />‘What about the rest? What about this?’ She held up a purple kaftan with large silver birds flying across it.<br />‘She wore that every summer.’ Imogen knew she was being childish, she even sounded like a whining child.<br />‘All right.’ Cherith put it down and picked up another one. ‘This?’<br />‘That was her beech one.’ Imogen bit her lip.<br />‘Right. Let’s make a deal. Go through it all and sort out anything you think you will actually wear yourself. You’ve said all these can go.’ She pointed at the pile. ‘Anything left at the end we can bag up and put in the garage. What do you think?’<br />‘Good idea. You see when I tried before all I could see were things that all had a story. I panicked and shut the door again, then I squeezed my stuff in at the end.’<br />‘I know it’s hard. I remember clearing out my parent’s house when my father died. It was before you were born of course. I suspected he had done nothing about mum’s things. When I went in a few weeks after the funeral it was worse that I thought. He had kept everything of hers just at she had left it, more or less. I had to clear out all my mother’s things as well as his. It felt like I was invading. If my father hadn’t been able to do it then what right did I have? I hadn’t lived there for years. I was married and had my own life. These were my parent’s things and I didn’t have their permission to be there. They had left the house and everything to me and your uncle Frank. But it was everything they had accumulated over years and years together. I had no idea what was important to them and what they might well have been about to throw away themselves. I knew about the things that had family stories attached to them of course. But there were things I had never seen before. I had to empty drawers that I was never allowed to touch. It was horrible, I felt so guilty. It took weeks to do, the house was so big and it was stuffed full. In the end I just got on with it. I realised that if there had been anything important they would have mentioned it before, especially when mum became ill. I gave away as much as I could, let the rest of the family come round and take what they wanted. The rest I either sent to charity shops or put out for the bin men. I couldn’t keep piles of old bank statements and gas bills. Neither could I do much with boxes of tapes and records that had been stored in the attic and got damp. They had kept all these things for a reason, but I didn’t know what that reason was. When the time comes darling you have permission to throw away whatever you like.’ she smiled. ‘We can’t keep things just because they belonged to someone else. And it seems Rowena has made it easy for you.’<br />‘Yes she had cleared out a lot before she got too ill. There are no piles of gas bills, not that we can get gas out here. She probably would have done the same with the rest of the cottage if she hadn’t got so frail.’ Imogen chocked as she thought of her vibrant, strong, very alive aunt confined to bed, unable to do much for herself, she would have hated it. She had been hurt when she had found out how ill she had been and for how long. She felt she should have been told. Now she realised that Rowena didn’t want people to see her like that, she wanted to be remembered the way Imogen was remembering her, dancing in a purple kaftan around the Mulberry tree.<br />They worked for the rest of the day and by the time it was dark they had filled the garage with piles of black bags and boxes. In place of all the cleared out things were all Imogen’s clothes properly hanging alongside Rowena’s vintage gems. In the sitting room new curtains hung in place of the dire brown velvet, to which the bin men were welcome. Cherith had chosen a pretty little trinket box in the shape of a sleeping cat, it was safely bubble wrapped in her handbag. She could sneak that in without Henry knowing. By the time they collapsed in the chairs the whole cottage was very definatly Imogen’s. She looked around and nodded. Now it could begin.<br /><br />It was getting dark and James and Flora were still busy. After sealing the deal on the office space they went back to the house and set up shop in the study. The rest of the day had been spent making endless phone calls and ordering large amounts of expensive stationary and office furniture. James had stopped counting how much was going on the credit card; it was probably better not to know. He was buzzing all over, but every time he heard Flora giving out his card number to place another order his heart stopped, was he really doing the right thing? At his age he should be putting his money into pension funds and the like, not taking it all out and giving it to other people to set up a new business, this had better work.<br />Flora looked at her watch and then across at James. She did it three times. The third time James looked at his own watch, it was nearly ten.<br />‘Good grief I didn’t realise it was that time. You must be starving.’<br />‘Just a bit.’ Flora gave a faint smile, in fact she looked like she might actually faint.<br />‘You should have said.’<br />Flora gave a little shrug and looked down at the carpet.<br />‘I agree. There was a time you wouldn’t have dared would you? Oh dear, I am sorry. I was bloody awful wasn’t I?’<br />Flora, feeling a little braver, nodded.<br />James smiled. ‘Ok. Point taken. So Indian or Chinese?’<br />‘Indian please.’<br />‘Or would you rather just go home? You should probably go home.’<br />‘Not much to go home for to be honest. And I’ve enjoyed today. Will it work do you think?’<br />‘It bloody well better.’ He tried to give her his best, most reassuring smile. If he convinced Flora then he might convince himself to.<br /><br />While James was fetching the Indian take away Flora went upstairs to use the bathroom. All afternoon she had been wondering where Imogen was. She had met her once when she had come into the office and she liked her. There was no reason for her to be there during the day, she must have a busy life of her own. But when afternoon turned to evening she was surprised when she didn’t come home. And there was an atmosphere to, something she couldn’t put her finger on. When she went into the bathroom she couldn’t help but notice the lack of femininity. At home there were all he little pots and bottles all over the place in the bathroom, here there were none. Of course she knew they had an ensuiet, but even so, she would have expected scented soap at the very least. And in the hallway too. When she came back downstairs she saw only James’ shoes and only his coats hanging on the hooks. Her suspicions that something was up were not wrong then. It looked like he hadn’t had a breakdown, his wife had left him. She wondered how many people knew, it wasn’t gossip in the office so not many. She wondered if she should say something, after all if she was going to be his PA then she needed to know all the circumstances didn’t she? Perhaps better not just yet, she wasn’t that brave. It was nice that whatever had happened had caused such a positive change in her boss, but she knew what men could be like, and she was not convinced it would last. In her experience they always reverted to type sooner or later. Well she’d stay for as long as this new mood lasted.<br /><br /><br />Chapter Sixteen.<br /><br />‘She’s gone where?’ Henry thundered.<br />‘To Cornwall, Mr March, to stay with your daughter.’ Mrs Davis halved in size.<br />‘How does she know Imogen is in Cornwall? How long has she known?’ Henry fired the questions so hard they made the air quiver as they travelled.<br />‘I’m sorry Mr March, I thought you both knew, she didn’t say it was a secret.’ She could see Henry’s colour changing and grabbed her bag. ‘I think maybe I’ll come back tomorrow.’ And she fled before anymore could be spat at her.<br />Henry kicked the bottom stair. Then he kicked the wall.<br />Poor Mrs Davis scuttled up the drive to her car. She said she would be back the next day but she had no intention of going back until she was sure Mrs M would be there. She had always tried very hard to not be there when he was. It wasn’t her fault Mrs M hadn’t told him what was going on, it wasn’t fair for her to take the flack. When she heard the door she assumed it was Mrs M back. When she saw him instead her stomach flip flopped. He had nodded an acknowledgement of her existence, then started bellowing for Mrs M. Eventually she heard him thump downstairs. She held her breath and waited. He had burst into the kitchen like a raving tornado and started demanding to know where his wife was. She didn’t understand to begin with, she assumed Mrs M had told him her plans. When the penny dropped she felt a little sick as she realised she was going to have to be the one to tell him. She was still shaking as she pulled away and drove home. Poor Mrs M, there was going to be a big row now.<br /><br />Henry stood in the hallway looking around. He frowned, then he opened his mouth. Then he closed it again. It was betrayal, pure and simple. First that ungrateful daughter, then James and now Cherith, the one person he never thought would desert him. She loved him so much so she would do anything for him, he had relied on that. It was one of the reasons he loved her so much. Of course he never let her know, better to let her think she had to earn his affection. But he always let her know he cared, in his way. He was generous, she didn’t want for anything. Why would she do something like this to him? She must know how it would make him feel. She would never do anything to upset him. It was bad enough when Imogen had walked out on James, shaming them all like that. He thought he had brought her up to have more respect. She would know how angry it would make him. After all he had done to secure James for her. You would think she would have tried a bit harder. Six years was nothing, how could she know after only six years? Why couldn’t she see what she had got? He had friend’s whose daughters would have killed for a catch like James, or a father like him who went to such trouble to set it all up. Cherith had been behind him one hundred per cent, she knew he was right. When they found out Imogen had left Cherith had been as angry as him, well she had agreed with everything he had said, which was the same thing. Now it turned out she knew where she had gone to all the time.<br />He had tried and tried to find out where Imogen was. He thought she might have gone abroad, but Cornwall? Why on earth would Imogen want to go to Cornwall? Bloody Rowena again. I mean it was not much more than a hovel! She had a five-bedroom house in one of the best suburbs of London for God’s sake! He hadn’t understood why Rowena had chosen such a place to live; now Imogen had chosen it to.<br />He shook his head. He didn’t quite know what to do now. Normally in a crisis he would shout for Cherith, have a rant, feel better and then she would agree with whatever he decided. The trouble was this time Cherith was the problem, and she wasn’t here to rant at. He had given Cherith a good lifestyle, everything she wanted, Imogen had gone to the best school they could find, he had given her everything to, he had taken James under his wing and nurtured his career. They had all taken so much from him, and now they were throwing it all back in his face. He plopped down on the bottom stair and looked at the reflection he saw in the hall mirror. When he had come down the stairs the other day he saw a confidant, handsome, intelligent man who looked nothing like his seventy years. The golf trip had been a great success. He had beaten Malcolm and William, and everyone had complimented him on his swing. He had come home full of himself, bursting to tell Cherith all about her brilliant husband. And now it was all spoilt. He felt like one of those balloons you see nailed to door a few days after the party. They still look like balloons, but they have started to get a bit wrinkly and the air had started to leak out. Why couldn’t people be more considerate? He studied himself. He hadn’t seen himself like this for, well, ever. Normally when people seemed to be going in a different direction to the one he had chosen he would pull them back, they always saw things his way in the end. He should have seen it coming.<br />‘Look at you sitting there, pathetic. Why aren’t you doing something?’ He glowered at himself and as he stared he started to feel the air re-inflating him. He sat up straighter and adjusted his tie. He smoothed his hair and dusted invisible dandruff from his shoulders. He stood up and marched through to the sitting room. He grabbed the phone and stood throttling the receiver while he punched in Cherith’s mobile number.<br /><br />Imogen and Cherith were sitting in the garden finishing off a bottle of wine they had started last night. Drinking at lunchtime was not the sort of thing either of them usually did, but all morning they had been waiting for Henry to call.<br />‘Poor Mrs Davis. It was a very cheeky thing to do to leave it for her to tell him. I hope he didn’t shout at her too much.’ Cherith had arrived just after breakfast. She knew Henry was due home mid morning and she didn’t want to be on her own when the proverbial hit the fan. They both knew these few days would come to a galloping halt as soon as he got back. Imogen was crossing everything.<br />When Cherith’s phone finally rang they both jumped. It was sitting on the patio table and they both stared at it as it vibrated itself towards the edge. Before it fell to the ground Cherith picked it up. She looked at the display, which showed her home number, and nodded to Imogen. Imogen reached over and took her mother’s hand. With a deep breath Cherith pressed the answer button.<br />‘Hello?’ It was a hopeful tone, there might be a chance it was someone else.<br />‘I’m hoping you have a perfectly reasonable explanation. From here it looks as if you have been lying to me about Imogen’s whereabouts. Then sneaked off to see her leaving the cleaner to tell me. But that can’t be right can it?’ He sounded far to calm. For Henry calm was not good, calm meant he had gone beyond angry to another level.<br />Cherith took a deep breath. ‘I didn’t lie to you Henry. If you remember you never actually asked me where Imogen had gone. As for ’sneaking off’ I did no such thing. The last time I looked I was a grown up. I do not need your permission to go away for a few days. I don’t remember you asking me if you could go on you golf trip. The opportunity presented itself so I took it. If I had told you my plans before you went then we would have had an almighty row and it would have spoilt your swing, what would have been the point of that?’ She exhaled. Imogen gripped her hand a little tighter.<br />‘How dare you, how dare you talk to me like that!’ This was not what was supposed to happen. She was supposed to apologise.<br />‘I dare Henry because I’m fed up. Imogen phoned me not long after she left. She asked me not to tell you and I honoured that promise.’<br />‘And what about your promise to me? Love honour and obey I think it was.’<br />‘Yes you like that don’t you? And it worked too, you were very clever. But I found the letters.’<br />‘You went in my desk?’ He almost whispered it, he was horrified. It just got worse and worse.<br />‘Yes I went in your desk Henry, and why not? I was looking for something. You kept those letters all those years and led me to believe you hadn’t. You did that deliberately. If I hadn’t found those letters then I wouldn’t have told Mrs Davis about this trip, I would have made sure I was back before you were and you would never have known I was gone. It was easy to keep it from you until I found those letters.’<br />‘I don’t understand.’ He frowned, what was she saying to him?<br />‘No Henry, I don’t suppose you do.’<br />‘Well I want you back here.’<br />‘I’m sure you do. I’ll be back in a day or two.’<br />Henry opened his mouth to say something then closed it again.<br />‘I’ll see you in a couple of days.’ And she hung up.<br />Imogen stood up and gave her mother a round of applause.<br />‘I think I need a top up.’ Cherith held out her glass.<br />‘Was he very angry?’ Imogen asked, pouring them both more wine.<br />‘Very. But I don’t think he quite knows what he’s angry about yet.’<br /><br />Henry quietly put the phone down and went into his study. He took the key from under the carpet and opened the desk. There, neatly stacked where he had left them, were Cherith’s letters. All the letters she had written to him before they married. They were all in order, first to last. The last one was the one he read most often. She had written it two days before the wedding. He got it on their wedding morning. For the first year he had kept it in his jacket pocket and read it at least once a week. He added it to the others when it started to get a bit tatty around the edges, he didn’t want to risk loosing it. He read it again now. How could the woman who wrote this be the same woman who had just spoken to him like that? And what was she going on about, before and after finding the letters? What he did know was he’d been found out. If she’d found the letters then that must mean she knew why he’d kept them. That wasn’t ideal.<br />He lay in the bath that evening. All afternoon he had been mulling things over. Cherith had been happy to keep Imogen’s whereabouts from him until she found the letters, that was what she had implied, had said in as many words. There was a time when she wouldn’t have dreamt of keeping anything from him. It used to make him smile the way she would hang her head slightly when she was telling him something she thought he wouldn’t like, he loved her all the more for it. Thinking about it she hadn’t done that for quite some time, not since Imogen married James actually. In fact she had hardened to him quite a bit since then. Sometimes he got the impression she wasn’t listening to him. He had dismissed it, she was getting old. Her hearing was not what it was. And she didn’t agree with him so much these days, she just nodded. There was a time when she would be outraged on his behalf and make a lot of soothing noises, telling him how right he was and how stupid everyone else was. Now she just nodded a lot and said ‘yes dear’ now and then.<br />He ducked his head under the water and let it wash around his ears and into his nose. He saw Cherith at the desk, the letters in her hand. He saw her face, she was angry, not pleased, as he would have expected. So that was it! He burst back through the soapy water and sat up. He had played down his feelings so much she had given up, that was why she was happy to deceive him. When she found the letters then she realised what he had been doing, but she also realised that he did care for her after all. That was why she set up Mrs Davis like that. It was so obvious the more he thought about it. It was easy to deceive a man you thought didn’t care, but a man who loves you is a different matter. For years he had assumed fear was the key to power, he had seen it often enough after all, but it wasn’t was it, at least not with her. Had he spent his whole life getting it wrong? Surely not. You had to be firm with staff that was certain, and there was no place for sentiment in business, and running a home was like running a business… He climbed out of the bath and wrapped himself in his huge, thick bathrobe. By the time he was dry and dressed he had convinced himself that he had been right, just not as right as he first thought, at least where Cherith was concerned.<br /><br />Imogen had called Molly and asked if she would come and collect Cherith, they had both had rather too much wine to drive. Henry had been hanging like an ugly cloud over them since Cherith arrived. Now the much dreaded phone call was over they had relaxed a little too much. Half a bottle left over from the night before became a fresh bottle, and then another. By the time Molly arrived they were both quite giggly.<br />‘Bye darling, bye!’ Cherith trilled out of the wound down window. She leaned out as far as she could and waved vigorously.<br />Imogen waved back. She had never seen her mother so happy. As she turned to go back up to the cottage something grabbed her from behind. She screamed.<br />‘Shhhh! You’ll wake the whole valley.’<br />‘Philip! You scared me half to death.’ She giggled and flung her arms around him, then she kissed him.<br />‘You’ve been drinking, I can taste wine.’<br />‘I have, yes… I have been drinking wine ALL afternoon.’ She flung her arm out to indicate the expanse of time.<br />‘Good on ya, any left?’<br />‘Don’t know…should be…think so.’ She nodded hard.<br />‘Shall we go and see?’<br />‘Good idea.’ She turned and wobbled up the garden path. Philip followed shaking his head and smiling. Imogen made a charming drunk, it was probably a new experience for her. He was going to enjoy teasing her about it tomorrow.<br />In the cottage Imogen went into the sitting room and fetched the half drunk bottle. She held it aloft triumphantly. Philip steered her back out into the garden, it would be better for her to have some fresh air.<br />‘Let’s sit out here.’ He said.<br />‘Good idea.’ Imogen handed him the bottle.<br />‘How about some glasses?’<br />‘Good idea.’ She toddled back into the house.<br />‘Taa daa!’ She returned with two clean glasses.<br />‘So you’ve had a good day with your mum then?’ he asked with a smile and a raised eyebrow.<br />‘We had a great time. Mum really relaxed after dad had called.’<br />‘Your dad called?’ Philip was concerned, he leaned forward. ‘What did he say? Are you ok?’<br />‘I didn’t speak to him. Mum was amazing! Oh you should have heard her! She really stood up to him.’ Imogen giggled. ‘I’ve never seen mum like that.’<br />‘So it’s all sorted now is it?’<br />Imogen sat up and took a deep breath of the night air. She was starting to sober up a little in the coolness.<br />‘He was very angry, I could hear him shouting, although I couldn’t hear what he was saying. I think he was demanding she come home.’<br />‘He’s not coming down then?’<br />‘Doesn’t look like it. I was so worried he would come down all guns blazing. I think he’ll wait for mum to go home. I was worried about that before, that he would take it all out on her when she got back. I don’t think he will now.’<br /><br />James came back with Chinese take away for himself and Flora. They had spent another day in his study. Flora was starting to wonder if she would have to have the phone surgically removed from her ear. It was chaos. They couldn’t move in to the new offices for a couple of days so they were working from this one room. All day they had been shhing each other while they were both on the phone. James knew he would get a handful of clients to follow him but he was not expecting quite so many. It seemed word had got around already, and almost all his old client list had been calling. It was supposed to be a nice smooth operation. All they were supposed to be doing in this first week was the setting up. Instead he was already setting up meetings for tomorrow. By nine they were starving.<br />‘Chinese tonight?’ James fetched the menus.<br />‘Anything, I’ll eat the menu if you leave it there long enough.’<br />While James was gone Flora had another look around. It was a stunning house, why would anyone want to leave all this? She went into the bedroom. She wasn’t being nosey, she really wasn’t, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a little look in the wardrobes. Yes it was as she expected, no women’s clothes. So she has definatly left him then. There were one or two tell tale signs of Imogen’s existence, a Gucci dust bag here a Prada shoebox there. Nice life if you can get it she thought. Something flashed through her mind then, Imogen had been how old, twenty-five? No more than thirty at most. Flora herself was twenty-eight. She looked again at the empty wardrobe and wondered what it might look like filled with designer clothes in her size. She shook her head, it was crazy, this time last week she had hated him. She had seen a different side to him these last few days, but that could change. Anyway she was off men. She screwed her eyes up tight as the image of Dan came into her mind. She shook her head hard to get him out. But then James was no Dan. They couldn’t be more different. For a start James was solvent. Just this morning there had been another text from Dan asking for money, every day this week. She had dumped him over a month ago when she saw him taking a twenty from her purse. It was so obvious when she thought about it. Money had been going missing for weeks. Everyone pointed the finger at Dan except her. Her loyalty had always been one of her strong points, but it had let her down this time. By the time she caught him, quite by accident, she was in the kitchen and had wandered to the fridge where she could see into the hall, and there he was with his hand in her purse. By the time she caught him he must have had over two hundred pounds. He had fed her all the usual guff about his sick mother, his boss being a bastard and not paying him. The truth was he had another girlfriend who was about to pop his sprog. She decided then that if she ever went near a man again then it would be a man not a boy five years younger. James was definatly a man, he was well over forty at least. And there would be no danger of him ever dipping into her purse.<br /><br />‘So when’s your mum going back?’ Philip took the glass gently from Imogen’s hand and set it on the grass.<br />‘Day after tomorrow.’ Imogen yarned and leaned her head against his shoulder. ‘It’s getting cold out here.’ She shivered.<br />Philip stood up and pulled her to her feet. He slipped his arm around her waist and they went back into the cottage.<br />‘Thank you for coming round tonight.’ she said.<br />‘I’d been looking out for your mother’s car all evening. I thought she’d never go.’<br />‘We did get rather carried away.’<br />‘That’s good. You needed to spend some time together. I told myself I’d stay out of the way until she’d gone home. But I wanted to see you. I couldn’t bear two more days. I’m sorry I scared you.’ he smiled. ‘You can’t half scream.’<br />Imogen laughed. ‘Yes it was a bit shrill wasn’t it?’ She put her hand up and touched his cheek. ‘Thank you.’<br />‘What for?’<br />‘Everything. I know I’m a bit pissed but I don’t think I could have got through these few weeks without you.’<br />‘Bollocks. You’re far stronger that you give yourself credit for. You did the hardest part on your own anyway. Deciding to leave in the first place took far more guts than anything you’ve done since.’<br />‘Even using the mower?’<br />‘Even using the mower. Mind you that was a pretty gutsy thing to do.’ He took hold of her hand and kissed the palm. She felt the blood rush though her so hard and fast she thought the top of her head might explode. And when he kissed her lips she was sure she heard the bang. She sank down onto the sofa before her legs went out from under her as well. There was nothing for it, she thought, she was going to have to sleep with him now. She took his hand and pulled him down next to her. She slipped her hands into his shirt and felt his heart thumping under her fingers. He responded, he’d wanted this so much for so long but had been waiting for a queue from her. Now he leaned her back against the cushions and kissed her until he could no longer breathe. He stood up then and started pulling at his clothes. Imogen was watching him and giggling, she was unbuttoning her own shirt. He got his shirt off and started on his trousers, damn button flies. He was suddenly all fingers and thumbs. He turned around to get the light from the moon that was filtering in through the windows, if he could see what he was doing… With a flourish of triumph he finally undid the last button. He turned around with them in his hand and flung them across the room. He took a step towards the sofa and stopped. Lying on the sofa with her shirt open Imogen slept. Philip sighed.<br />‘Oh Gin.’ he said and pulled her shirt back across her exposed chest. On the back of the chair he spotted a blanket and pulled it over her. He got dressed as quietly as he could, reached down and stroked her cheek, then he let himself out.<br /><br />Imogen was woken by the sun bouncing off her face. For a moment she couldn’t place herself. She sat up and looked around, then wished she hadn’t. Her head was literally splitting in two. She had to hold the two sides together when she tried again to sit up. When everything stopped spinning she realised where she was. Bloody hell she was stiff. As she moved to stand her shirt fell back open. She frowned as she did it back up. Then she saw two wine glasses. Yes, she remembered, her mother had been there and they had polished off rather a lot of wine between them. But that didn’t explain her open shirt, why would she have undone her shirt? She gathered up the glasses and took them into the kitchen. When she put them in the sink she found two more already waiting to be washed. She stood and stared at them. The two in the sink both had traces of lipstick on, the other pair only had one with lipstick, her lipstick. So whoever the third person was they didn’t wear lipstick. She put her hand up to brush her hair from her face and as she did so she detected a scent. There was a familiar smell lingering on her, she took a deep breath. Philip! She closed her eyes and groaned. Oh God what must he think of her? Her last memory was of a passion so strong she thought she might die of it. The next thing she knew the sun was bouncing off her closed eyelids. She had fallen asleep on him! She didn’t remember the blanket so he must have tucked her up in it before he left. She put her head in her hands. Her whole body was crimson with embarrassment. She was glad to hear the phone ring, something else to think about. She hurried to answer it, every ring ripping through her saw head.<br />‘Hello?’ She croaked.<br />‘Hello Ginny dear.’<br />‘Molly, hi, everything all right?’ She held the receiver away. There was no need for Molly to shout.<br />‘Oh yes. Nothing to worry about. Your mother wanted me to let you know that she won’t be over as early as planned this morning. She’s feeling a little…delicate.’<br />‘She’s got a hangover!’ Imogen was glad she wasn’t the only one.<br />‘Well yes, if you want to put it like that. You two had a good time yesterday by all accounts.’ Imogen could hear the question in Molly’s voice and knew she would be too polite to ask.<br />‘We did, yes. Dad called. I was so proud of mum. She really stood up to him. I don’t think he’ll be calling again.’<br />‘Oh I’m so glad.’ the relief in Molly’s voice was touching. She and Eleanor had both been worried about Henry. Eleanor was itching for a fight, but even she was nervous in case he caused any real trouble. Molly had been rather terrified on the quiet. Conflict was not her strong point, especially when it had been brewing. It wasn’t her fight she knew, but she also knew Henry.<br />‘Tell mum I know how she feels and not to rush. I hope she didn’t disgrace herself?’<br />‘Oh no! Your mother has always been a lady, and she was the most ladylike drunk you could wish to meet.’ They both burst out laughing.<br />‘I’ll drive her over when she’s ready.’ Molly offered.<br />‘That would be kind. I’ll have the kettle on.’<br />Imogen went back into the kitchen. Putting the kettle on was a very good idea. She put two tea bags in the mug, followed by three sugars. With any luck there would be paracetamol in the bathroom cabinet. She went in search while the tea stewed away. She was in luck, paracetamol; she took three and went back for her, now almost black, tea. She should shower, she should change her clothes, but all she wanted was to curl up and forget about last night. Poor Philip. She pulled the blanket over her head.<br /><br />‘Feeling that bad?’ Philip’s voice came through the thick red wool and she hoped she had imagined it.<br />‘Yes.’ she said eventually. She stayed under the blanket and hoped he would go away, she didn’t want him to go away, but she didn’t want to see him either.<br />Philip took the corner of the blanket and gently pulled it back.<br />‘Boo.’ he gave her such a huge grin that her heart sank with humiliation.<br />‘That’s a good trick,’ he said ‘turning the same colour as your blanket.’<br />She was trying so hard not to smile, but one crept up despite herself.<br />‘I’m so sorry Philip.’ She crept out from under the red wool.<br />‘At least you weren’t sick on me.’<br />‘Don’t! Oh God.’ She flopped her head down into her lap.<br />‘Had anything to eat yet?’<br />‘No.’ Imogen pulled a face, just the thought of it made her want to heave.<br />‘Best thing for a hangover. I won’t make you have the full English, but I’ll do you some toast.’ Philip headed off into the kitchen leaving Imogen with her too strong, too sweet tea.<br />He came back a few minuets later with a plate of hot, buttery toast and set it down on the low table in front of her. She wanted to ask about last night, she wanted to know what had happened and if he was cross. But looking across at him she realised that it would be better to leave it alone. He obviously wasn’t cross, he wouldn’t be here making her breakfast. It would never happen again, they had had their moment, and she had blown it. For weeks now she had been thinking about little else, he had been on her mind all the time. Every time she saw him her blood had heated up and she tingled. Last night she was sure it was what she wanted most in the world. Now she knew that her going to sleep was probably the best thing that could have happened. She was so angry at the thought of James sleeping with goodness knows who and there she had been about to do the self same thing. Maybe she was just old fashioned, but until a divorce was organised that was that. Besides Philip was going home in a couple of weeks and getting any closer to him would make that so much harder, for both of them. She knew that if last night had gone ahead she might well have fallen in love with him, and she didn’t want that. He was lovely and she wanted to remember him like this, she didn’t want to regret anything. She hoped he hadn’t fallen in love with her. She saw him looking at her sometimes in a way no one had ever looked at her before, then she wondered.<br />Philip watched her nibbling at the toast. Her first hangover had obviously come as a shock. She looked so fragile sitting there wrapped in her red woolly blanket. All summer he had been thinking about their future. When he first saw her in the post office all those weeks ago he had felt an instant connection, there was a draw that was more than sexual. Of course he fancied her, who wouldn’t? But he had seen something in her that she obviously didn’t see herself. He also saw someone who was hurting. He seemed to attract lame ducks. At school he was the one the teachers always asked to help when someone was having a rough time or being bullied, he was the one who sat with the sick puple while they waited for their mum. He liked it, he liked to help people. The trouble was he always got involved. But how could he not? When someone is sitting in front of you sobbing because their girlfriend’s dumped them or they’ve had their pocket money nicked what can you do? His mother was always telling him that he was going to get hurt himself sooner or later, he told her he’d be fine. Now he wasn’t so sure. As soon as he got close to Imogen he knew it was unlikely there was going to be any future for them. He knew she wouldn’t be able to commit to him. That was fine, it really was, after all she had made him no promises. Even so he found himself wanting it more and more. He had light-heartedly mentioned that she go back to Oz with him. The look on her face as she tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t upset him said it all. Ok so life in Australia didn’t appeal to her, fair enough. He decided he would stay here. He was supposed to be going to university in the autumn, but they have unis in England, he would get transferred some how. That was one of the things he was going to tell her last night. Now, standing by the windows while she sipped at her tea he knew he would go home, that he would leave her here and that that was fine. When he turned around and found her asleep he wasn‘t as disappointed as he should have been. It was strange because he was so fired up every time he saw her. He knew this morning what he had tried to ignore for weeks, that there was a difference between passion and love. He cared about her, he wanted to help her and he had wanted very badly to sleep with her, and last night she seemed to want the same thing. This morning though she seemed as relived as he was that nothing had happened. He wanted to ask her if she was ok, but he decided it was better to let it go. He smiled across at her and she smiled back.<br /><br />James woke up in the study chair and immediately wished he’d bothered to go to bed last night. Flora had finally gone home around one and he had gone back to sort through the rest of the papers. So much paper! This was supposed to be a paperless society and yet he seemed to be drowning. What had started as a flippant remark from Olwen had turned out to be a hell of a lot of work. He had hoped that by now things would be up and running, he was hoping to be on his way to Cornwall. Instead the phone had not stopped ringing, the faxes had not stopped coming, nor had the emails. It seemed everyone and his dog had heard that he was going it alone. Clients that had resisted him for years were suddenly interested. Henry himself had been unnervingly quiet. The estate agent had promised they would be in the offices by now, looking around at the mess that was once his home he hoped it wouldn’t be too much longer.<br />He got up slowly and grimaced, he was too old to sleep in chairs, and he had promised never to do it again. Carefully he stretched and took a few saw steps to the kitchen. The whisky bottle was still sat on the desk but he hadn’t been near it in weeks. Caffeine, on the other hand, that was a different matter. Just as he reached the kitchen the phone rang. Bugger, he picked up the kitchen extension.<br />‘Hello?’<br />‘James, Henry.’ Henry’s voice was sharp and clipped.<br />‘Good morning Henry, what can I do for you?’ He was as light-hearted as he could manage.<br />‘You can tell me what the bloody hell is going on that’s what.’<br />So he had herd.<br />‘I get back from golf to find that Cherith had swanned off to Cornwall with out a by your leave. At least the office is in safe hands I think. But no! I get in this morning and find your office empty. Then I get a phone call from William Hebdon asking for your home number. I ask him why he wants it and he tells me that you’ve set up on your own! Christ James what the hell are you doing? You can’t set up a new business just like that, not in a week, you can’t!’<br />‘Well I can and I have.’ James was going to stay calm. He was not going to let Henry rattle him this time. What had Henry ever done for him really? He flattered him and courted him. In the early years, he was one of many, there were several companies who wanted him. James had chosen Henry because he seemed to need him the most, that was very clever. A small family firm that was looking for new blood, it sounded perfect. And it was for a long time. Maybe he knew all along that Henry was playing him, maybe he just chose to ignore it. Maybe he chose not to see the strings that were attached to everything because it suited him. Yes there was a time when they were as bad as each other. James wanted what was on offer, he wanted the promotions, he wanted to run the whole show one day. How it had taken him this long to wake up to it all amazed him.<br />‘Why?’ Henry was quiet now, not quite believing what was happening to him. Why was it all going so wrong? ‘I got you where you are.’<br />‘No, Henry, I got me there. I chose you as much as you chose me. I was happy to go along with it all. I’m not proud of myself. And nor should you be Henry. You convinced me that I needed you. Good God you hand me by the bollocks for years. It took Imogen leaving me to wake me up, I know how that sounds but it’s true. I don’t expect someone like you to understand but I couldn’t go on working for you once I finally realised just what a fucking bully you really are.’ James said all this in the calmest voice he could manage, then he put the phone down.<br /><br />For the second time in as many days Henry found himself at a complete loss. He stood with the dead receiver in his hand for a long time. James had called him a bully when he had given him everything, he would never have got so high up anywhere else. He went into the sitting room and sat down heavenly on the sofa. On the wall in front of him was a framed photo of Imogen and James on their wedding day. He got up and went over to it. She was happy, look at her, she’s smiling, they both were. He looked closer, and then closer.<br />Something caught in his throat when he looked into his daughters eyes, frozen and flat. She wasn’t smiling, neither of them were. He tried to remember the build up to that day. He had introduced them, and he had encouraged them, encouraged James to make the proposal. He had sweetened the pill with the offer of the business when he retired. But it was all for Imogen, he was making sure she was all right. By making sure she married someone like James, and by making sure James stayed he was looking after her. Well it was true to a point. He also knew how good James was at his job, and how many other people were after him. If he was married to Imogen he would have a harder job leaving to join someone else. And James had worked wonders, clients loved him, so did their wives. Well there was nothing wrong with that, he’d known many men in James’ position who did the same. If it got the contracts signed then it could be overlooked. Not that he had ever done it himself. He couldn’t do it to his Cherith but he was happy for James to do it to Imogen, maybe that wasn’t such a good thing for a father to do. And maybe hiding those letters was not such a good thing for a husband to do. He’d been called manipulative before, and arrogant, and selfish, but he had always assumed that those who accused him of such things were just jealous. He had a great deal for people to be jealous of after all. Even at school there were boys who knew how much he stood to inherit and bullied him for it, and others who were his best friends because of it. He developed a thick skin very quickly. And there was nothing wrong with looking after yourself. In his heyday in the eighties they were exactly the qualities needed, learning how to manipulate people had got him were he was. The business had been comfortably chugging along under his father, but Henry had put it on the map, and kept it there. He had been banking on James to keep it going after him, even building it up some more. It might have been different if Imogen had been a boy, someone to hand everything over to completely. But she wasn’t.<br />Cherith had wanted a baby so much, and he wanted to make Cherith happy. The miscarriages had been quite dreadful, Cherith had cried for days. He hadn’t thought about his own feelings about children until they were taken away. When Imogen finally came along he had convinced himself he didn’t mind what they had, but he couldn’t help a little pang when the midwife said ‘it’s a girl’. A girl was so much more responsibility. A boy could be sent off good and early to a character building school, then moulded into whatever shape you wanted, hadn’t done him any harm after all. But a girl, they were a different matter. A daughter needed looking after, you couldn’t send them away to school so early and they needed an eye keeping on them. And even when they were grown up you still needed to be there to guide them. Before Imogen was even old enough to go to school Henry was worrying about her future, how he was going to provide for her and look after her when he was gone. He decided that it would be best to get her married to someone suitable, reliable and with prospects who he could trust to do the right thing by her. It was what his parents had wanted for Rowena, what all parents of that generation wanted for their daughters, that was the point of the ‘season’, something Rowena had hated and put up with under great protest, calling it a meat market. He could still remember the pain Rowena put their parents through when she stubbornly refused to marry. The trouble was Rowena should really have been a boy. There was a time when he was a child when he wished they could change places. She was so full of life and was never fazed by anything. He, on the other hand, had to teach himself to be self-reliant. The thick skin he developed at school was born out of a need to survive rather than a natural quality. Rowena was born with the hide of an elephant and nothing ever seemed to get through, or so it seemed. And while she kept her feeling forever on show, and always let you know what she was thinking, he had learnt to bury his feelings deep down, they were safer that way.<br />So Imogen was a worry. In the early days there was the dread that she too might be taken away in the night. Cherith would get up in between feeds and check she was still breathing. Eventually he convinced her that she didn’t need to, but he would do it instead while Cherith slept. She was a quiet girl, but not shy. She was slow to make friends though so the school holidays became somewhat of a trial. When Rowena suggested Imogen go down to Cornwall for a few weeks in the summer holidays there was relief all round. He had been uneasy to begin with. He was not on the best of terms with his sister, not for the first time. But their arguments shouldn’t impact on Imogen, and she wanted to go. For a few years it worked out well. Imogen seemed happy to go down on the train with a secretary, which meant he didn’t have to see too much of Rowena. Cherith had protested a little, but he pointed out it would be good for Imogen to meet new people. It worked and off she went. Until Rowena started putting ideas into her head. There was no way Henry could allow Imogen to grow up like his sister. Rowena had done nothing with her life. I mean going off to Cornwall like that and living in nothing much more that a garden shed. No one expected her to have a career or achieve great things. But she should have got married, had children, done charity work. Rowena refused to do what was expected. These days she would be the one running the company, but that was not an option back then. Their father had never been strict enough with her, that was the trouble. While Henry was sent away to school and brought up with all his parent’s expectations on his shoulders, she was allowed to do more or less what she wanted. Their parents were old fashioned enough to belive that only boys were worth sending away to school. When Rowena expressed an intrest in learning they allowed it, but it was more of an indulgence. As a result she got whatever she wanted while he was sent away.<br />While Henry could take over the business and make his own way Rowena had to be provided for one way or another. If she married then they could relax knowing that someone was there to look after her when he had gone. It was what he wanted for Imogen to. While she was single he was still responsible for her, if she married well then he could relax. When she was a child Henry was sure she was the kind of girl who would suit that kind of life. He knew he was old fashioned but he didn’t like the thought of his little girl having to go through what he had in order to survive when she could be taken care of.<br />The trouble was Rowena didn’t want to be taken care of and so their parents watched in horror as she turned into an independent woman with her own ideas. It was Henry who wanted to be taken care of but no one wanted to know about that. She was throwing away the chance to have everything she could ever want handed to her. He watched from an upstairs window as she packed up that dreadful motorbike with as much of her belongings as she could. He saw her parents putting on brave faces as they waved her off. Their expectations of him suddenly became even higher, everything now rested with him. He resented it and he resented Rowena for getting away from it, he was jealous of her. He had never really thought about it before but he was not angry with his sister for leaving and living such an individual life he was envious of the fact that she had been allowed to do it. He did what was expected and he made his parents proud. And he watched Rowena having a ball in Cornwall and hated her for it.<br />Before Imogen was born he had decided that. Boy or girl, his child was going to be brought up with more respect for everything he and Cherith had had to do to provide for them. There was no way he was going to let his child throw all his hard work back in his face. So when Imogen started to form such a close attachment to Rowena he started to worry. She would come back from Cornwall with all kinds of wild ideas about what she might do with her life. It normally only took a few days for him to have talked her out of whatever elaborate plan she was about to embark on, but he could see that headstrong streak. He needed to quash that if he was ever going to be able to protect her. Until that point they had been rather more indulgent than he wanted to be. Now he started to put his foot down. The business had also started taking off and he was spending more and more time away from home. It became easier to play the strict father when he didn’t have to be there to catch the fall out. He knew he was leaving Cherith to mop up the tears every time he said no and then left for the office, but that was the natural order of things after all. Men go out to work while the women bring up the children. And Cherith was always very good about backing him up. She never went against his wishes. He had never considered himself to be anything less than a good and caring father. It was true he became more distant as work got busier. And it was true he liked things to be done his way, but that didn’t make him a bad person. He had done his best for them and now it seemed that hadn’t been good enough.<br />Henry sat and thought. He tried to list all his friends. After several attempts he realised that he had no one he could really call a true friend. There were lots of aquatances, the chaps from the golf club, clients and ex clients who still kept in touch, his Christmas card list was huge, but there was none on that list he could call right now and have a good chat with. There was no one, except Cherith, who he could pour out his troubles to. It had never been an issue before, but now Cherith wasn’t here he realised there was no one else. How had he come to this? He never intended to alienate everyone. He had to stand up for himself because no one else wanted to do it for him. He wasn’t the strong man everyone seemed to think he was, but somehow the act that kept him going for so long had taken over. He knew the real Henry had been lost a long time ago, and he had always been glad. Now he started to wonder where that scared little boy had gone and whether he could still be found. But he was too old for all of that, he was what he was and it was too late to change. Maybe he had got it wrong all those years ago when he decided to bury himself and build his barricades, but they were there now and that was that. It had got him a long way. The little boy he had once been could never have built up such a successful life. All the promises he had made to that little boy as he sat sobbing in the dorm after a particularly nasty bought of bullying he had kept. He had got the big house, the flash cars, the big fat pension, the silk shirts and the off shore accounts. He had everything those boys had told him he would never have because he was a mummies boy who had it all on a plate and would never make anything for himself. Well he had shown then hadn’t he? Yes he had, but at what cost? His sister had hated what he had become and had told him so in no uncertain terms. His daughter was apparently terrified of him. His wife seemed to have turned against him and he had no one he could truly call a friend. In fact he had become the most successful failure he had ever met.<br />He shook his head and tried to make it different, there was still a part of him that couldn’t quite admit that he had done anything wrong. Yes he was trying to do his best for Cherith and Imogen, but he was also trying to do the best for himself. Over time he became more and more self-centred until he could no longer think about anything from any other point of view than his own.<br />He still told himself it was all for the good of the family, but it wasn’t was it? James had been right. He had sold Imogen in exchange for James staying in the business. But it was the best thing for her. He shook his head hard, it was for her. But however hard he tried he couldn’t tell himself that lie anymore. He had done it for the good of the business, to make himself more money and give himself more power. He had let Imogen down at the time when she had needed him most. The one thing he had tried so hard to do he had failed to achieve. Instead of protecting her he had made her unhappy. He knew she didn’t want to marry James but he had taken no notice, telling himself at the time that it was just nerves. And he knew Cherith was right when she tried to talk him out of it. He told himself it was just a mother not wanting to let go of her daughter. The little girl who had kept him awake at night with worry, who he had crept in to in the middle of the night to check on, who had looked up at him with eyes that made his heart break. She had become so terrified of loosing his love if she didn’t please him that she had married a man she didn’t love. What kind of a father did that make him? Oh God! He put his head in his hands and pressed his palms into his eyes. The pain was excruciating but he didn’t care.<br />A hundred things were whirling around his head all at once. He had to do something, he had to put things right somehow. He was too old to change just like that. He had no idea how to begin. It would be so easy to just carry on as before. He could wait for Cherith to come home and just say nothing. He could have a rant at Imogen and tell her to come home, something a part of him still wanted to do, and watch while she cut herself off from him completely. He tried to remember the last time she had talked to him about anything important, and he couldn’t. He tried to remember the last time Cherith had talked to him about anything important, and he couldn’t. People told him the things he wanted to know, or needed to know. People tiptoed around him, and he liked it. That was the trouble. He liked the power he commanded.<br />He couldn’t stand being in the house so he went out into the garden. He remembered Imogen running around on the lawn, doing cartwheels. He remembered her running up to him when she saw he was home from work and throwing her arms around him. She was about eleven, it was just before the last time he allowed her to go to Cornwall. It was the last time she did anything like that. He wanted that again. He wanted to be loved rather than feared.<br />He went upstairs and started to pack a bag.claire phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16313963622279623204noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5637493278275929558.post-65271141719193822862009-02-21T06:00:00.000-08:002009-02-21T06:02:10.644-08:00Mulberry Gin Chapters 13 & 14Chapter Thirteen.<br /><br />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.<br />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.<br />‘Sorry, I did ring the bell, twice.’ He said.<br />‘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.<br />‘I’ve got a free day and I wondered if I could take you out, to apologise.’<br />Olwen raised an eyebrow but said nothing.<br />‘I was very rude the other week.’<br />‘Yes you were.’ She was standing to her full height and he could quite see why Jonathan didn’t always stand up to her.<br />‘You were right of course. I snapped because I knew you were right and didn’t want to hear it.’<br />‘So what’s happened to change your mind?’ She asked.<br />‘Lots of things. You always did see me for what I was didn’t you?’<br />‘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.’<br />‘Thank you, I think.’<br />‘All though I have to say I had started to think I was wrong, you seemed to be slipping further and further into gittage.’<br />‘Ok… And do you think I can be stopped from slipping, can I be pulled back?’<br />‘Probably. Now you’ve started to see the cracks you might be able to patch them up.’<br />‘I hope so but I don’t think I know how.’ He sat down on the sofa with a sigh.<br />‘Well apologising to me is a good start. You’ve never done that before.’<br />‘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.’<br />‘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.<br />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.<br />‘Do you remember Kelvin and Mandy Colsanto? The couple from New York who were at that dinner party last autumn?’<br />‘Oh yes, very loud.’<br />‘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.’<br />‘Advances? You mean she tried to shag you?’<br />‘Olwen!’ Although he should be used to it by now it still seemed wrong for a woman to come out with such things.<br />‘Am I wrong?’<br />‘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.’<br />‘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.<br />‘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.<br />‘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.’<br />‘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.<br />‘Honestly?’<br />‘Honestly.’<br />‘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.<br />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.<br />‘You know how bloody stupid you’ve been don’t you?’<br />James nodded.<br />‘So what are you going to do about it?’<br />‘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.’<br />‘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.<br />‘I wrote to her.’<br />‘Saying?’<br />‘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.’<br />‘Is that were she is, Mulberry Cottage?’<br />‘Yes. Rowena left it all to her.’<br />‘I’m not surprised. I assume Henry doesn’t know?’<br />‘Good God no! And please don’t tell him.’<br />‘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?’<br />‘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.’<br />‘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?’<br />‘Yes that might work. Yes that’s what I’ll do.’ He nodded.<br /><br />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. <br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />‘You look lovely.’ He held out the flowers. ‘I thought you’d like these more than shop bought.’<br />‘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.’<br />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.<br />‘So where are we going?’ She asked as she carried the flowers back through to the sitting room.<br />‘Anywhere you like.’<br />‘Oh I don’t know. There are lots of places, but I can’t think. Do you want people or quiet?’<br />‘Quiet I think.’<br />‘That’s the Eden Project out then.’ She smiled.<br />‘Unless that’s what you want to do?’<br />‘Not particularly. There are some standing stones about five miles away?’<br />‘Sounds good to me. Those things are fascinating.’<br />‘The stones then. There’s a nice pub near by that used to do good food. We could have lunch there?’<br />‘Even better. So shall we go?’ He held his hand out to her. She hesitated a moment but took it.<br />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.<br />‘So do these stones have a story?’ Philip parked the Land Rover in the small car park on the edge of the field.<br />‘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.’<br />‘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.’<br />‘And we complain when we have to drive a couple of hours. It must be lovely though, all that sun.’<br />‘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.’<br />‘You sound like you’re inviting me round for lunch. It’s half way round the world! I’d like to see it though.’<br />‘I could show you it. We could hire a VW and go on a road trip around Australia.’ He grinned.<br />‘I thought you had college? I’m not getting in the way of you finishing your education.’ Imogen frowned.<br />‘You sound like my mother. She wasn’t too keen on me coming back here. Everyone has a year out these days.’<br />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.<br />‘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.<br />‘And what about you? What will you do when summer’s over?’ He asked. <br />‘I don’t know. I don’t want to think about it just yet.’<br />‘Fair enough.’ He grabbed her hand and started running towards the stones. ‘Let’s have some fun.’<br />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.<br />‘Enough.’ She puffed. ‘I’ve got stitch.’<br />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.<br />‘That’s the second time I’ve caught you napping.’ Philip was standing over her holding out a bottle of water. ‘You ok?’<br />‘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.<br />‘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.<br />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.’<br />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.<br />‘What’s that?’ He was pointing down into the water.<br />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.<br />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.<br /><br />The gallery was packed. James gestured to Olwen that they should go, she nodded. They headed out into the not so fresh air.<br />‘Well I’m sure the paintings were worth seeing.’ James said.<br />‘Just a shame you couldn’t actually see them. It was a nice idea though. Shall we head home?’<br />They were walking towards the river and James realised that he hadn’t been in this part of the city for years.<br />‘I’d like to walk for a bit if that’s alright.’<br />‘Fine. I like it here. I bring the kids down to the river whenever I can. They love to go on the boat trips.’<br />‘A boat trip! Let’s do that. I haven’t done that since I was a child.’<br />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.<br />‘There you go. Let’s pretend were tourists.’ He plonked the hideous thing on Olwen’s’ head.<br />‘The kids love these and I never let them have them. They’ll kill me.’<br />‘We’ll take them some back.’<br />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.<br />‘This is fun.’ He admitted.<br />‘Steady on James, you might start enjoying yourself if you’re not careful.’ She nudged him with her elbow.<br />‘I should have done things like this with Imogen.’<br />‘Yes you should. You will. Come on you were having fun a second ago.’ She nudged him again.<br />‘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.<br />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.<br />‘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.’<br />‘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.<br />‘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?’<br />‘It’s a thought.’<br />‘So think about it. Anyway I’d better go I have some shopping to do while I’m out.’<br />‘Can I drop you somewhere?’<br />‘No I’ll get the bus. Or I may be really decadent and take a taxi. Thanks anyway.’<br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />‘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.<br />He breathed in sharply and pulled himself up straight. Never mind, she‘ll call back and then he can say it.<br /><br />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.<br />‘So what do you fancy?’ Philip didn’t seem to realise what he had just said.<br />Imogen couldn’t help but laugh. Philip looked skywards.<br />‘I mean to eat.’<br />‘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?’<br />‘That sounds good to me. You’re closer.’ He nodded to the bar.<br /><br />When the food came they both gasped. They were the biggest plates of food either of them had ever seen.<br />‘We should have ordered one between us.’ Imogen said in awe. ‘I’ll never eat all this.’<br />‘Course you will.’<br />‘I’ll get fat.’<br />‘Not that again. Have you looked in a mirror lately? You could put a whole stone on and no one would notice.’<br />‘That’s rubbish, but thank you anyway. I am hungry.’<br />‘So eat.’ He dived in and she joined him.<br />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.<br /><br />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.<br />‘Thank you for today. Um…’ She bit her lip.<br />‘When can we do it again? Your mum’s coming down tomorrow right?’ He still wasn’t moving.<br />‘Yes. She’ll be here a couple of days.’<br />‘I’ll stay out the way while she’s here then.’<br />‘Thank you.’<br />‘I’d better go. I’m on morning milking tomorrow, five o’clock start.’ He smiled that smile.<br />‘Ok. Good night then.’ Imogen breathed a sigh of relief.<br />‘Good night, and thank you.’ She smiled.<br />‘For what?’<br />‘For it all.’<br />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.<br />‘You’ll sleep with him eventually you know.’ Rowena’s voice came in on the breeze.<br />‘Maybe.’<br />‘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.’<br />‘Do you have to be quite so direct?’<br />‘Oh definatly. I always found it was the best way. If you want him and he wants you then where’s the problem?’<br />‘I’m Married?’<br />‘Rubbish. You know my feelings on that subject. And you said it yourself. James has slept with other women.’<br />‘I only said I suspected he had.’<br />‘Don’t split hairs. He’s been shagging his way around the world on all his various trips you can bank on it.’<br />‘Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I can do the same.’<br />‘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.’<br />Imogen knew her aunt was right. She should not be feeling guilt over something that had no guilt attached to it.<br />‘Ok. How would you feel if James found out about Philip? How do you think he would feel?’ Rowena asked.<br />‘He’d be cross.’<br />‘But would he care?’<br />‘Only in as much as it would dent his pride.’<br />‘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.’<br />‘He’s not really that bad.’<br />‘Oh Gin!’<br />Imogen carried on up to the cottage and let herself in. Boris was waiting for her and trotted off towards the kitchen.<br />‘Meow!’ Imogen didn’t know how a meow could sound cross but some how Boris managed it.<br />‘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?’<br />‘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.<br />‘You might as well you know. My dead aunt is giving her views so I don’t see why a cat shouldn’t.’<br />‘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.<br />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.<br /><br /><br />Chapter Fourteen.<br /><br />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.<br />‘What time are you supposed to be meeting the others at the club?’ She asked lightly.<br />‘Nine. I’ve told you that.’ He snapped.<br />‘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.<br />‘Bloody hell. Why didn’t you say so?’<br />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.<br />‘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.<br />He gave her a cursory peck on the cheek and finally crossed the thresh hold.<br />Cherith waved him off up the drive and out of the gates. Then she closed the door and exhaled deeply.<br />‘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.<br />Before she set off she decided to call Imogen.<br />‘Hello darling, it’s mum.’<br />‘Hi mum.’<br />‘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.’<br />‘There’s no rush mum, take your time. Molly said she’ll expect you when she sees you.’<br />‘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.’<br />‘See you later, and don’t worry too much.’<br />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.<br /><br />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.<br />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.<br />Boris wandered in half way through her second cup. ‘Meow.’ He came and brushed around her legs. ‘Meow.’<br />‘Oh Good morning, just. Where do you think you’ve been?’ She looked at her watch.<br />‘Meow?’ The look of innocence on his face told Imogen he had definatly been up to something.<br />‘Don’t come that, it’s nearly twelve and you’re only just home. You are a dirty stop out.’<br />‘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.<br />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.<br />She went through to the sitting room and sat down at the little desk. She took out the writing paper.<br />Dear James,<br /> 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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />Best Wishes,<br />Imogen.<br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Imogen picked Boris up from the armchair and carried him out to the garage. She plonked him in the basket of the bike.<br />‘Meow!!’<br />‘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.<br />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.<br /><br />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.<br />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.<br />‘Hello?’<br />The familiar voice made James jump. ‘Oh… Hello. Clive?’<br />‘Yes.’<br />‘It’s James. James Lampress.’<br />‘Good God! I thought you were dead.’<br />‘Not quite yet.’ He gave a funny laugh, which he had never heard himself do before.<br />‘So how are you?’ Clive still sounded like Clive, but there was something different in his voice.<br />‘Well. Thank you. And you?’<br />‘Good, good. And how’s that lovely wife of yours?’ What was her name? Pretty though, good cook to.’<br />‘Imogen…Umm ok. She’s in Cornwall at the moment.’ Well it wasn’t a lie.<br />‘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.’<br />‘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?’<br />‘Retired old chap, about a year ago.’<br />‘But you’re only…?’<br />‘Forty nine.’<br />‘It seems to be happening a lot.’ James shook his head.<br />‘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.’<br />So that was why he sounded different, James thought, the stress had gone out of his voice. ‘What brought all that on then?’<br />‘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.’<br />‘Sounds familiar.’<br />‘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.’<br />‘Nice life if you can get it!’<br />‘Very nice. So what about you? Still with Henry?’<br />‘No, I don’t think so. I mean I’m thinking about going it alone.’<br />‘Good for you. Rather you than me, but why not?’<br />‘Well it’s only a though at the moment.’<br />‘Don’t think too long is my advice. When an opportunity comes along you take it, first rule of business remember?’<br />‘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.<br />‘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.’<br />‘That would be good, thank you.’<br />‘Ok then, see you Sunday.’<br />‘See you Sunday.’<br />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.<br /><br />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.<br />‘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.’<br />‘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.<br />‘Come in. I’ll make tea.’<br />‘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.<br />‘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.<br />‘Well. Better than I thought I would be.’ Imogen replied.<br />‘You seem very settled.’<br />‘I am. I love it here.’<br />Cherith grimaced a little. ‘We should never have stopped you coming, I’m sorry.’<br />‘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.’<br />‘So you keep saying. Oh well we’ll agree to differ shall we?’<br />‘Fair enough. So how was the journey?’<br />‘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.’<br />‘How is dad?’ She wanted to get the question out of the way.<br />‘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.’<br />‘When’s he home?’<br />‘Day after tomorrow. All hell will break out then I’m afraid. Or maybe not, he might supprise us.’ They looked at each other.<br />‘All hell will break out.’ They said together. Then they burst out laughing.<br />‘Oh dear, poor Henry. He really doesn’t understand why no one is playing his game anymore.’<br />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.<br />‘Hello.’ Cherith gave him a tickle behind his ear and he started to purr.<br />‘This is Boris. He came with the house.’<br />‘He’s adorable.’<br />‘And he knows it.’<br />Boris turned and gave Imogene a ‘who pulled your chain’ look.<br />‘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.<br />‘Hi Molly. Mum you remember Molly?’ She squeaked.<br />‘Of course I do. Hello.’ They gave each other a little peck on the cheek and Molly sat down to join them.<br />‘No Eleanor today?’ Imogen asked.<br />‘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?’<br />‘Yes thank you, I did.’<br />‘I bet the traffic here feels a bit different to London?’<br />‘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.’<br />‘I can quite believe it.’<br />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.<br />‘Have you thought about what it is you might like?’ Molly asked.<br />‘Sorry?’ Cherith didn’t quite understand the question.<br />‘Your bequest.’<br />‘Oh I see. No I’ve no idea. It will have to be something Imogen will let me have.’ She gave a light laugh.<br />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.<br />‘So do you want to come back with me now or have you got plans?’<br />‘I don’t know.’ Cherith looked across at Imogen.<br />‘I don’t mind. You can come back over later.’<br />‘Yes, I’ll do that. I’ll come with you now then Molly, if I may.’<br />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.<br />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.<br />‘Do you make a habit of skulking in hedgerows?’ She laughed.<br />‘Only when there are beautiful women around.’ he grinned.<br />‘Oh that’s awful.’<br />‘But you’ll kiss me anyway won’t you?’<br />‘Probably.’<br />And he was right.<br />‘So what brings you here?’ She asked when she had finally put him down.<br />‘I can’t remember now.’<br />She gave him a light shove on the arm.<br />‘Oh yes. It was to tell you Mr T needs to turn the water off for a couple of hours tomorrow morning.’<br />‘Oh.’ So it wasn’t to see her then. For some reason she felt disappointed, which was stupid.<br />‘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.<br />She couldn’t help the smile that sprang across her face. She should know better by now.<br />‘Have you got time for a cuppa?’<br />‘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.’<br />‘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.’<br />‘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.<br />‘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.<br />‘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.’<br />‘I know. He wants to come down and see me. There was a message on the machine.’<br />‘You didn’t say.’ He sounded hurt.<br />‘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…’<br />‘You can come and find me whenever you need me.’ He snatched hold of her hands and gave them a hard squeeze.<br />‘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.<br />‘Good on ya.’ He kissed her.<br />‘Well if I can handle that dam mower then I can do anything can’t I?’<br />‘Bloody right. Talking of which it’s about time it was done again, the grass I mean.’ He nodded towards the garden.<br />‘I’ll decide when to cut the grass thank you very much.’ She gave a theatrical toss of the head and poured the tea.<br />Philip watched her and thought his heart might burst, ‘that’s my girl,’ he whispered to himself.claire phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16313963622279623204noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5637493278275929558.post-39252800156456525252009-02-13T07:26:00.000-08:002009-02-13T07:30:58.274-08:00Mulberry Gin Chapters 11 & 12Chapter Eleven<br /><br />Boris jumped up onto the pillows and gave a loud meow. Imogen groaned and without opening her eyes reached out to stroke him. It had become their morning routine, when Boris became too hungry he came in and started waking her up.<br />‘All right sweetheart, just five more minutes eh?’<br />‘Meow!’<br />‘Two then.’<br />‘Meow!!’<br />‘Ok, ok. Come on then.’ She swung her legs out of bed and tried to make the rest of her follow. After several yawns and several stretches, she made it to her feet.<br />‘Meow!!!’ Boris was now at the door, Imogen was sure he would tap his foot with impatience if he could.<br />‘I’m coming!’ Together they would go to the kitchen where her first job was to fetch Boris his morning milk. Once he was busy she could get on with the equally important job of the first cup of tea. There was nothing like that first cup in the mornings, although she had never smoked she could fully understand it when it was said that the first cigarette of the day was the best, the first cup of tea definatly was. She leaned against the kitchen table and looked out of the window. On the other side of the hedge she could see Fred on the tractor bumping off towards the end field. He would have been working a couple of hours already and was on his way back from breakfast in the farmhouse. It was the same every morning and there was something comforting about seeing Fred going about his routine. She wondered if it changed through the year, if he did things differently in the winter when the weather was against him. Probably just wore a thicker cap she thought with a smile.<br />‘Meow.’ His milk gone it was now time for some proper breakfast. Imogen went to the pantry and produced a pouch of his favourite food, and a jar of raspberry jam. She put the cat food in Boris’s bowl and the jam on the sideboard next to the toaster. She was sure one day Boris would get the jam and she would get cat food on toast. On her way back to the teapot she put two slices of toast on. If anyone had been watching they would say this little ballet had been rehearsed over years.<br />After breakfast Imogen went for a shower. He must have called around while she was in there because when she came into the sitting room there was a note pushed under the French windows. She started to read while she unlocked them and flung them open to the July sunshine.<br />Ginny,<br />Just dropped by to see what you were doing later. I’ve got to go into town this afternoon on some errands and wondered if you’d like to come along? I’ll be in the lane about two; I’ll wait for you. See you later.<br /><br />Phillip.<br /><br />Cheeky bugger, what did he think she did all day, sit about and wait for young Australians to offer her trips into town? But she couldn’t take the smile off her face, and went straight back into the bedroom to change.<br /><br />Phillip walked back to the farm wondering if he’d done the right thing. He was sure she liked him, but she was still married. Yes she had left James but the way she talked about him he knew she was hurting. He also knew that she wasn’t yet sure exactly what she was doing here or what she was going to do next. Maybe he could help her decide, maybe he could help her find whatever it was she had lost, or maybe he could just give them both a fun summer. Either way he knew he wanted to spend as much time with her as he could. And was that so wrong? Really who wouldn’t want to be with her? Well James clearly. What was that mans problem? He shook his head. If he were married to Imogen he would thank God every day. Maybe he shouldn’t judge, he’d never met the guy after all, and Imogen might not be perfect to live with, though he doubted it. If there was one thing he had learnt growing up in his neighbourhood it was that you never know what goes on behind closed doors.<br />That couple from three doors down proved that. Bloody hell that was a shock. If he hadn’t seen them with his own eyes he would never have believed it. He’d only popped round to borrow a screwdriver to fix the lawn mower. There was no answer at the front door but he could hear sounds so he went round the back. Through the open windows he could see his neighbour chained to the wall being beaten with a riding crop by the lady from across the street. They saw him before he had the chance to dart around the corner. Trying very hard not to look at either of them he made his request and was told to help himself from the shed. He grabbed the first screwdriver he saw and bolted. He was pretty sure James wasn’t in to that kind of thing but it just goes to show.<br /><br />When Imogen finally came back out of the bedroom she saw that the postman had been. He never came as far as the cottage but, American style; there was a post box by the garden gate with a little flag which he put up if he’d left anything. She could see it from the French windows and wandered down to see what there was. Normally it was just junk. The first week there was still the odd letter for Rowena but a couple of curt replies had put a stop to them.<br />She was surprised to see her own name typed on one envelope. She hadn’t given anyone this address, and only her mother knew where she was. With a slight tremble she opened it as she walked back to the cottage. Opening it out she gave a cry of shock and horror. It was from James. She closed it back up and took it over to the Mulberry tree. If she was going to read it then she wanted some support.<br />Pressing her back hard against the trunk she opened the letter out again and started reading.<br />Dear Imogen,<br />This is my sixth attempt to write to you. I don’t even know if you’ll get it, but I’m pretty sure you’re there in Cornwall.<br />Imogen I need to know what’s going on. Your note was very vague. For the first three weeks I waited for you to come home, then I started to realise that maybe you wouldn’t be. Do you think it is fair to stay away so long without getting in touch? Please talk to me, I’ve stated to realise things about our relationship and myself. I was angry but not anymore. You must have had your reasons to leave and I’d like to know what they were. I’d also like to put my side across, to be given the chance to defend myself.<br />Please reply to this letter. If you don’t want to call me then at least write.<br /><br />Yours,<br />James.<br /><br />Well it was short and to the point. Her first thought was how he had found out. She thought about Cherith, she was the only person who knew, but she wouldn’t give her away would she? Surely she was immune to such manipulations. Maybe it hadn’t been fair to ask Cherith to keep it a secret knowing what the men were like. But it must have come from Cherith. She had made sure there was nothing left behind that could give a clue to her whereabouts. It was such a childish thing to do to think she could hide out here and never be found so long as she didn’t tell where she was. Of course people would find her sooner or later. She had hoped it would be later and she never thought she would have been given away like that, not buy her own mother. Well however it had happened it had happened, and now she had to decide what to do about it. She went back into the house and, with a trembling hand, picked up the phone.<br />‘Hello?’<br />‘Mum it’s me.’ she tried to keep her voice level.<br />‘Hello darling how are you? I’ve been thinking I should call you.’<br />‘Was that before or after you’d spoken to James?’ Imogen pulled her spare hand into a tight fist and thumped it against her thigh.<br />There was a short silence. ‘How did you know I’d spoken to James?’ Her mother’s voice was pale and quiet.<br />‘Because he wrote to me. Mum how could you?’<br />‘But darling I didn’t….’ Cherith squeaked.<br />‘You must have.’<br />‘I promise you I never said a word. He called me about three days ago and asked me if I knew where you were. I crossed my fingers behind my back and said no. He said he thought you might have gone down to Cornwall. I told him I had no idea what he was talking about. Oh dear. I got the impression he didn’t believe me, but I honestly didn’t tell him anything.’ Cherith was nearly in tears. She had betrayed Imogen, but not by telling on her to James. She should have called her as soon as she had spoken to him.<br />‘Sorry. I just…’ Shit. She unclenched her fist.<br />‘It’s all right. I would have probably reacted the same way. I really have no idea where he got the idea. He said he’d been thinking, not something I thought men ever did a lot of, but there you go. Still it’s better that it’s out in the open isn’t it?’ Cherith said hopefully.<br />‘Maybe. Did he say anything about the money and the shares?’<br />‘He asked if you’d been left anything. I told him that, as he well knew, we hadn’t been told anything about the will. And we haven‘t, officially.’<br />‘Thanks mum. I wonder where he got the idea?’<br />‘I hate to bring it up, but I think there’s a high chance he’ll tell your father.’<br />‘Oh bugger, sorry. Yes I suppose he will.’ Imogen sighed. So soon, her bubble burst so soon. As soon as Henry found out that would be it, game over. ‘Will he come down do you think?’<br />‘Not if I can help it darling.’<br />‘Thanks mum. But what about you? When are you coming down to choose your, whatever it is you’re having?’<br />‘I still don’t think it will be possible, especially now. And Grace has broken her leg, so I can‘t use her as an alibi. Maybe I could sneak down the next time your father goes on a golf trip, there must be one coming up. I’ll give you a ring.’<br />‘That’ll be lovely. Molly says you can stay with her.’<br />‘Molly? Do I know Molly?’<br />‘One of Rowena’s friends, Molly and Eleanor, they’re inseparable. You must remember them.’<br />‘Yes I think I do, nice pair. Which one was Molly?’<br />‘The quiet one.’<br />‘Oh yes.’ Cherith laughed. ‘They were so funny, like an old married couple.’<br />‘They haven’t changed.’<br />‘Oh bother, that’s the doorbell. I’m sorry darling I’ll have to go. Please keep in touch won’t you.’<br />‘Of course. Bye mum.’<br />‘Goodbye darling.’<br /><br />James flicked another paperclip into the waste paper basket, that made twenty-three, he wondered if there was a world record and if he’d broken it yet. He was thankful Henry would be out of the office all day. His secretary, Flora he now knew she was called, had been acting strangely since he asked her how she was. She’d been noticeably avoiding him. His driver too had given him a very dirty look when he said thank you for opening the door. It was like they thought he’d gone mad. It wasn’t that out of character surely? He sighed and flicked number twenty-four, direct hit, that must be a record. He should get on with some work. She wasn’t going to call today. He didn’t expect her to, not yet. He looked at his watch, eleven thirty, she might not have even got the letter yet, rural deliveries could be very unreliable. Give her a couple of days, a week perhaps. And do some work, do what you’re good at, screw some money out of an unsuspecting client. He picked up the phone and made a couple of calls. He didn’t press for answers, just left messages, he never left messages. It wasn’t fun today. If he was honest it hadn’t been that much fun for a long time. There were moments when he remembered what it was like, the thrill of nailing a deal he had been chasing for months, but it had become too easy, his reputation went before him and they caved in almost before he said hello. The money was still nice, sometimes it was the only thing that kept him interested. It used to be the other way around, it used to be the business, the challenge, that kept him going and the money was a nice extra. When it had changed he didn’t know. Long before Imogen came along he was sure. She had helped for a while, thinking how proud she would be of him gave him some drive back. But now she was gone and so had the last of his interest. He could do something else perhaps, but there was nothing else he knew anything about. And at his age there was little chance of breaking into anything new. It had taken him ten years to get this far; at his age he couldn’t do that again. Mind you there were perks. This week was the second week of Wimbledon and he had some of the best tickets to the two finals. Imogen always loved going to Wimbledon. Who could he take this year? He couldn’t turn up alone. Some of the best business was done under the cover of a nice day out, Wimbledon, Ascot, the Chelsea flower show. Now that had been a good day, he had come home with some very useful phone numbers and at least three appointments with new clients. What Imogen had done he didn’t know. He had gone off with some cronies and she wandered around on her own. He hadn’t asked her what she’d done, just spent the whole journey home bragging about all the good contacts he’d made. He hurled the box of paper clips across the room.<br /><br />Imogen was standing in the middle of the room with the letter in her hand when she heard the Land Rover coming out of the farmyard. She had forgotten about Philip and their trip. She looked down at the paper in her hand wondering what to do with it. The sound of the cars horn jolted her. She shoved the letter into a draw and grabbed her bag.<br />‘Hi, I thought you’d stood me up.’ Philip was leaning out of the window, the sun playing with his hair and bouncing off his bare, toned arms.<br />‘Sorry.’ Imogen swung up into the passenger seat wishing she hadn’t worn a skirt.<br />‘Everything ok?’ Philip frowned. ’You look a little pale.’<br />‘Fine.’ She didn’t meet his gaze.<br />‘You can tell me about it later. I’ll buy you an ice cream.’<br />How did he do that, how did he know? All she had said was ’sorry’ and ’fine’. <br />‘So what have you got to do in town?’ She tried to sound bright.<br />‘Pick up a couple of sacks of feed, pay a couple of cheques in; buy you and ice cream while you tell me what’s happened.’ He smiled his best, most disarming smile. Imogen couldn’t help but laugh.<br />‘Is mind reading something they teach you in Australian schools?’<br />‘Yeah, it’s compulsory. We also learn how to put out bush fires and save dolphins.’ Now he was laughing to. ’Well we learn about bush fires anyway.’<br />‘Very useful I should think, in Australia.’<br />‘Maybe in the bush, not so much by the ocean.’<br />‘But do the kids in the bush learn how to save dolphins?’<br />‘Probably. Bt you’re changing the subject.’<br />‘Oh you’re like a dog with a bone.’<br />‘And I’m just going to keep on gnawing so you might as well spill.’<br />‘What about my ice cream?’<br />‘Alright we’ll pick up the feed and then go get ice cream.’<br /><br />Imogen was glad they had the trailer, the chicken feed smelt appalling. She sat in the Land Rover outside the bank waiting. She could see through the window there was a long queue. She sat back and fiddled with the radio, finally getting some soothing classical music. Closing her eyes she tried hard not to think about James’s letter.<br />‘Caught you napping.’ Philip tapped on the window. ‘So ice cream then.’<br />He parked in the square and they went in to the little café on the corner. Without asking what she wanted Philip went to the counter and ordered for them both, it was ever thus Imogen thought.<br />‘I thought I’d got away from that.’ she said when he came back to their table.<br />‘Sorry, but it’ll be worth it I promise. So come on then.’<br />‘I had a letter this morning.’<br />‘From James?’<br />‘From James.’<br />‘Saying?’<br />‘I don’t really know. He wants to know why I left. He said he wants a chance to defend himself.’<br />They were interrupted by the waitress coming over with two of the biggest knickerbockers glories Imogen had ever seen. She sat with her mouth open while they were carefully set down.<br />‘One each! Oh my goodness.’<br />‘You see if I’d asked you’d never have chosen it, even though you would’ve wanted to.’<br />‘I’ll be sick.’ she protested.<br />‘No you won’t.’<br />‘I’ll get fat.’<br />‘Not from one Ice cream.’<br />‘Thank you.’<br />‘You’re welcome.’<br />They sat in greedy silence for several minutes until they needed a break.<br />‘What are you going to do?’<br />‘I don’t know.’<br />‘Where’s the letter?’<br />Imogen grimaced. ‘In a draw.’<br />‘Oh Gin.’<br />‘I know. I panicked. I thought if I hid it it might go away. Pathetic isn‘t it?’<br />‘Not pathetic at all. You’ve got to stop beating yourself up all the time.’<br />‘I know. I suppose I should reply.’<br />‘Not if you don’t want to. You need to take some time to think about what you want to do, not what you think he wants. You’ve done the hard bit. Don’t let him spook you anymore. Why not reply to him telling him you’ve got his letter and that you’ll be in touch soon, how does that sound?’<br />‘I suppose you’re right. In fact bugger it you are right. I’ve left him why should I let him frighten me. Sod him he can wait until I’m good and ready.’ She took a huge spoon full of ice cream and shoved it all into her mouth, nearly chocking. Philip burst out laughing.<br />‘You go girl.’<br />Imogen tried not to laugh with her mouth full, but failed and sent pink gloop across the table. This made Philip laugh all the harder. Soon they were both hysterical with the rest of the café staring.<br /><br />Cherith’s heart pounded and her hand trembled on the study door handle. She knew he was at the office for hours yet, but still she felt a little sick. She came into this room almost every day to bring the post in, but never before to break into Henry’s desk. Why he kept his diary locked away she could not imagine. They both knew she would never look in it. And she wasn’t really looking now, not for anything important. If Henry had got a golfing weekend coming up then the details would be in his diary. He would tell her about it as an afterthought the day before, but she needed to know now.<br />There it sat, a vast Victorian roll top job in the darkest and most menacing mahogany you could imagine. She took a deep breath, here goes. She had heard of women who did this kind of thing all the time. One of her bridge friends claimed to go through her husband’s desk, post and pockets at least once a week. How on earth they managed it Cherith could not think, it was terrifying. She gave the roll top a little shake in the hope it would have been left open, no, unlucky. She tried the draws, locked. She sighed. All right then she would have to be very careful. She took her metal nail file and started jiggling it in the lock. Well it might work in films but not in real life. Ok then maybe he kept a key somewhere. She felt all around the back and sides, no. She looked behind the curtains, but she knew she wouldn’t find anything, she had spent more years than she cared to remember dusting this room, Henry would not allow Mrs Davis, the cleaner, in in case she saw something she shouldn’t, heaven knew what. Then she noticed a slight fray in the edge of the carpet under the window. Stooping down she gently pulled it back, bingo. There was a little brass key. With a trembling hand she fitted it in the lock and gave the top a push. The lid rolled back with a terrifying clatter.<br />‘Shhhhh.’ She whispered to it and shot around to check the door. Stupid woman he’s at work, now calm down and find the diary. She stood and looked for a moment, making note of exactly where everything was in case she had to move it. She was in luck. The fat leather book was sat right on top of a pile of old letters. Carefully she lifted it up and took it into the kitchen.<br />Sitting at the table she started to flick through, keeping an ear open for the door. He really did record the most ridiculous things in here. There were several entries about the time keeping of various people, including James, who was in trouble Cherith noticed. There was a list of what he had had for lunch and dinner each day with a tick or a cross beside each dish, her mushroom risotto got a cross, she noted, but a bread and butter pudding from his club got three ticks, she harrumphed and flicked through a bit further. Today was the sixth so she started from there. Oh please let her be right, there must be something coming up. Yes! There it was. He would be gone for three days. With relief she jotted the dates down and carried the book back. She put it to bed on its mattress of letters, what were they? She leaned over to see. They were old, going brown around the edges. With a little shock she recognised her own, much younger handwriting. They were the letters she had written to him before they were married. She turned a little pale and put her fingers out to touch their edges. She thought he had binned them years ago. She never thought he had kept them in the first place. By their state they had been read and re-read many times. She was close to tears when she rolled the top down and locked the lid. He did love her. For thirty years she hadn’t been sure, but you didn’t keep letters from someone you didn’t love for all this time did you. Oh bother. She was about to plan a secret trip to Cornwall to visit their daughter, whose whereabouts she had also been keeping secret from him. In fact she had been considering not coming back. She had promised Imogen she wouldn’t tell Henry about Cornwall or leaving or her own bequest. Now she didn’t know what to do. If he loved her then he would be hurt by her deception.<br />‘Oh Henry’ She said to herself.<br />The terms of Rowena’s will were very specific, under no circumstances was Henry to accompany her to Cornwall, but it didn’t say she couldn’t tell him. If she told him that she was planning a little trip to Cornwall to collect a bequest left her by Rowena, and told him of the terms then she couldn’t be blamed if he chose to follow her, and if he happened to see Imogen then that couldn’t be helped either could it? She wouldn’t be breaking her promise to Imogen would she, or would she? She had said she would try and get down without Henry knowing. She leant her cheek against the cool glass of the study window.<br />She was still there when she heard the back door open. It wasn’t Henry, not by the back door. It would be Mrs Davis, the cleaner.<br />‘Oh Mrs M. You gave me a start.’ Mr Davis put her hand up to her chest to reinforce her surprise. ‘It was so quiet I thought you must be out.’<br />‘Sorry Mrs Davis. I was just having a think. Shall I make some tea?’ Cherith led the way to the kitchen.<br />‘Oh lovely.’ Mrs Davis pulled up a chair to indicate that tea and work did not cooperate. ‘Can I ask what you were thinking about?’ Any excuse for a bit of gossip.<br />‘Going on holiday.’<br />‘Lovely. Somewhere nice?’<br />‘Not me. Henry. He’s got a golf trip coming up, West Sussex.’<br />‘Nice. I have cousin lives out that way, nice country. Are you not going with him?’<br />‘Oh I’m not allowed, none of the wives are. And to be honest I don’t think I’d want to. He can get very competitive and I’d have to spend the whole three days telling him how wonderful he was.’<br />‘Go off on your own then. Have your own little holiday.’<br />‘I suppose I could.’ Something was occurring to her.<br />‘Have you got someone you could visit?’<br />‘My, our, daughter is in Cornwall at the moment.’<br />‘Lovely, why not go and see her? I love Cornwall, we had our honeymoon there you know. Lovely country. Which bit is your daughter in?’<br />‘The south, not far from Truro.’<br />‘Nice shops in Truro. One of the biggest Marks and Spencer outside London you know.’<br />‘Really.’ Cherith sipped her tea.<br />‘Oh yes. Why not treat yourself. Better than sitting here for days on your own. I could come in and keep an eye on things for you.’<br />‘That would be kind.’<br />‘No problem at all. When were you thinking?’<br />‘Next week. Probably from the eleventh?’<br />‘Fine. Will you be going before himself or after? I only ask because I wouldn’t want to turn up and find him still here. No offence.’<br />‘Oh I expect he’ll be gone before me. You could come as usual and clean and then pop in a couple of days later and bring the post in, that would be wonderful.’ Might it work? Cherith wondered.<br />‘No problem at all. Now I’d better get on. Thanks for the tea.’<br />It was a perfect solution. Cherith felt a little mean but she couldn’t tell Henry herself. Mrs Davis on the other hand loved to tell anybody anything. She also cleaned for several of their friends. She was bound to tell one of them and they would tell their husband, who would see Henry and tell him. By the time he came home full of bluster she would be packed and ready to go, and so would he. He wouldn’t be able to cancel the golf at such short notice so he wouldn’t be able to follow her. At worst she might get a couple of days of paddying but she was used to that. She crossed her fingers, touched wood and hoped it would all work out. With some luck and a following wind she would be gone before he found out and would have had a few days before she had to face the music.<br /><br />Philip dropped her at the gate and bumped the Land Rover back to the farm. She wondered if he would be in trouble for taking so long, or if he had told them he was taking her with him. Well it was probably all round the village by now anyway, and if not it soon would be once Mrs Tragowen knew. In London she had always taken great pains to keep herself out of the dinner party gossip and hated the thought that she might get talked about. Now she would be the sole topic, and it didn’t bother her at all. She knew Rowena had been the mainstay of village talk for years, it was only right to keep up the tradition.<br />Entering the house her eyes went straight to the desk draw. She could see the letter sitting there without having to open it. Her heart sank and the ice cream no longer felt like a treat but like a huge lump in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t leave it there she knew. She decided she’d have a cup of tea first.<br />From the kitchen table she could see through the door to the sitting room with the desk, and the draw staring back accusing her. She got up and went to look out of the kitchen window, turning her back on the open door. There was Fred again, did he ever do anything other than go back and forth past the cottage? It was amazing to Imogen that he still looked exactly the same as when she was last here, the same tweed cap and jacket, which was hung up in the cab of the tractor on hot days. She wouldn’t have been surprised if it had been the same cap and jacket as fourteen years ago. <br />Her mug was empty and she couldn’t fit another one in with all the ice cream. You’ve got to do this, she told herself. James had gone to the trouble of writing to her, and she knew it would have taken some effort on his part. She imagined him sitting in his study trying to think of what to say to her.<br />The phone ringing made her jump, and she said a small thank you to the god of good timing under her breath for the distraction.<br />‘Hello?’<br />‘Hello darling.’<br />‘Hi mum. How are you?’<br />‘I’m fine. But I don‘t think you are. Are you all right?’<br />‘I’m full of ice cream that’s all.’<br />‘At lunch time?’<br />‘I know, I feel a bit sick.’<br />‘Serves you right.’<br />‘So, you called?’<br />‘Yes. Your father is going away on the twelfth of next month for three days with golf. I was wondering if that would be a good time for me to come down?’<br />‘Oh yes! That would be great. I’ll tell Molly, I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’ll call her later and arrange it. What day’s the twelfth?’<br />‘A Wednesday. But I’m going to come down the day before if that’s all right.’<br />‘Of course it is. Why the day before? You’re not doing a bunk like me are you?’<br />‘No! Not yet.’ she gave a weak laugh. ‘I found some letter this morning. They were the old letters I had written to your father before we married. I had no idea he had kept them and it gave me quite a start. Now I’ve found them I can’t keep lying to him. I’m not going to break my promise to you darling, but I can’t keep deceiving him either. So I’ve hatched myself a little plan. I’ve told Mrs Davis about you being in Cornwall and that I might come and visit while Henry is in Sussex. I’ve asked her to come in on the eleventh so that He’ll still be there. He’ll have realised that I’ve gone. I’ll leave him a note. He won’t shout at Mrs Davis, he knows how hard it was to get her. But she’ll tell him where I’ve gone. So I won’t be lying to him and I won’t be disloyal to you, do you see?’ Cherith had felt awful about leaving it to Mrs Davis to tell Henry. She crossed her fingers behind her back. It was cowardly but it would give her the head start she needed.<br />‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to cover for me. Of course you can’t lie to dad. Tell him. Tell him everything if you like. I’m a grown up and I need to face the consequences.’<br />‘It’s all right. This is the best way, truly. If I tell him he’ll hit the roof and then go into one of his sulks. He’ll demand we come straight down there, and then there’ll be another scene. This way he’ll go off to golf fuming yes, but he’ll have a good rant to his friends, who will all agree with him, he’ll feel better, and by the time we both get home and confront each other it will be much more civilised. And I want to come and see you. If I tell him now he’ll stop me, and he’ll cancel his golf and then blame us both for that to.’<br />‘If you think that’s the best way.’ Imogen was doubtful.<br />‘I do. And have you given any thought to James’s letter?’<br />‘I’ve been trying very hard not to. It’s too soon mum. I just can’t think. Do you know what I mean? I talked to… a friend this afternoon about it but I don’t think I’m any clearer. At the time it seemed like the best thing to do. You know James, you can’t talk to him. If I had tried to tell him he wouldn’t have listened, and if he had listened he wouldn’t have understood. I used to think that all men were like that.’<br />‘Used to think?’<br />‘Yes.’ Imogen blushed down the phone. ‘Like I said I’ve been talking to a friend.’<br />‘And the friend is male?’ Cherith raised her eyebrows.<br />‘Yes. And he is only a friend, there’s nothing going on, he’s far too young anyway, barely out of school really, and anyway I’m still married,’ she stopped to take a breath, ‘and he’ll be going back to Australia in September.’<br />‘Be careful darling. Don’t let another one hurt you.’<br />‘Oh no I won’t. There’s nothing to it, but I don’t think Philip would do anything to hurt anyone.’<br />‘I look forward to meeting him.’<br />‘Oh yes, of course.’ Change the subject Imogen. ‘So what sort of time should I tell Molly to expect you?’<br />‘Lunch time I should think. I’m going to leave as soon as your father leaves for work, about eightish. Are you sure she’ll be all right about my staying with her? I don’t like the idea of just plopping myself on someone.’<br />‘Molly will love it. She’ll spend days cooking and cleaning and she’ll be in her element. Don’t worry mum, no one else down here ever seems to.’<br /><br /> James opened the front door and wrinkled his nose. The smell must have been there for some days but this was the first time he was aware of it. Stale take away food, spilt whisky, full rubbish bins and a more general mustiness that came from a house that had been shut up for weeks. He went around and started opening windows, letting air in and some of the smells out. Then he had a good look around.<br />He decided to start where the worst smells were coming from, in the kitchen. Putting the rubbish out would be a good start. He examined the dishwasher until he thought he had worked it out, and loaded as much into it as he could. The rest he put in the sink and turned on the hot tap. He realised he had been rather heavy handed with the washing up liquid when soft white foam started to creep up his arms, then over the top of the bowl. Oh well it looked pretty, and it smelled a dam sight more pleasant than the rest of the house. Clean dishes put away he opened the fridge, and promptly shut it again. Good God what was that? He opened it again more slowly with his hand over his mouth. In the door he saw a litre bottle of milk, with the top off, merrily growing a furry combination of green and brown stuff. Well that couldn’t be good. He took it, and some cheese that was trying desperately to catch up with the milk, out to the wheelie bin.<br />He opened the cupboard under the sink and stared at the array of bottles. He needed to clean, but with what? His first reaction was to call Olwen and ask. He shook his head, he could do this. He got every bottle out and started reading the labels. Finally he found the right one. It had to be the last one he picked up. Holding it at arms length he squeezed the trigger. A spurt of bright orange gunk splattered the surfaces. He pulled a face. Oh well it didn’t seem to be corroding anything. Right then, a cloth. Back to the sink cupboard. There were three different cloths, this was ridiculus, how much stuff did you need to clean one kitchen? He grabbed the blue one and went to work.<br />Satisfied with the kitchen he went into the study. In here the smell was of stale alcohol and sweet and sour sauce. There was a bright yellow/orange stain on the carpet where he had spilled the day glow gloop. He should have wiped it up right away, but he couldn’t be bothered so now there would be a stain there forever to remind him. He picked up the papers that littered the carpet and started to go through them. There were a few bits and pieces for Imogen among the post, mostly junk. He thought about sending it on to her. Then he thought about taking it down to her in person. He shook his head. He must wait until she got in touch. Anyway it was possible she wasn’t even in Cornwall. He put it all in a separate pile. He now had several dotted around him. He carefully filed everything away properly and went in search of a duster. Triumphant he returned with a duster and polish. Could you just spray it everywhere? Sure, why not. He sprayed everywhere and gave a spectacular sneeze.<br />When downstairs was back to something like its former self James went upstairs. The first thing he did was strip the bed of the sheets he had been sleeping in for the last four weeks, and stuff them into the overflowing laundry basket. He looked at the dirty washing and sighed. He scooped up as much of it as she could and went back downstairs, was this what Olwen did everyday? The washing machine took a little longer to fathom than the dishwasher, so many programmes, and he had no idea what all the funny little symbols meant. He did know that you had to do whites separately so he started with the sheets and his shirts. Well they seemed to be going round. Now back up to tackle the bathroom. It actually wasn’t as bad as he had feared, although the towels were no longer a pale cream. He threw them over the banister.<br />By midnight he had a neat pile of laundry ready to iron. Ironing didn’t appeal. He decided he didn’t need ironed sheets. You only slept on them and wrinkled them up again after all. The shirts, though, had to be done. He couldn’t keep nipping out at lunchtime to buy new ones, he already had dozens.<br />The first time he tried to put the ironing board up it bit him. He kicked it into submission and tried again. It wobbled but at least it was upright. The iron itself was not so obliging. It took several minutes of violent hissing and spluttering before he realised he needed to put water in it. It took three hours and several burns to get enough shirts for the next week. He carried them up, put them away and threw himself onto the bed. The tang of the fresh sheets in his nostrils made him get up and take a shower, he hadn’t gone to all that trouble just to mess them up right away. From now on he was not going to fall asleep in his clothes, he was not going to spend the night slumped in the study chair, he was not going to drink so much and he was going to try and eat proper food. Olwen had taken him shopping so he knew where to go and some of what to buy. He thought about her while he dried his hair. She had left him in the pub garden under a cloud. He should call and apologise. She had a point. It hadn’t been what he had wanted to hear right at that moment, but it was true none the less. In fact her giving him a verbal slap might well have been just what he needed. One thing was for certain, he was not going to do anything about anything until the morning, or later in the morning, it was four am and he needed sleep. For the first time in weeks he fell asleep without the aid of the whisky bottle.<br /><br />Two hours after James had finally got to bed Imogen was up. She had spent all night tossing and turning. One minute James was in her head, then it was Philip. One minute she was smiling, then she was frowning. She gave up on sleep and lay there stroking Boris, who purred and stretched out to his full length, which was surprisingly long. She was an ostrich. She thought if she didn’t think about it then it might go away. Like a child who thinks if he can’t see you then you can’t see him, even when his bum’s sticking out from beneath the sheets. Now she couldn’t stop seeing it, all of it. She thought she left because James didn’t love her. Maybe she left because she didn’t love James, in which case why leave, if she didn’t love him then why not stay and take what was on offer? The fact that it bothered her so much that he didn’t love her made her think that maybe she did love him, did that even make sense? By six she was fed up and went to make tea. She sat at the table and half expected to see Fred and his tractor.<br />She sipped her tea. Ok so let’s suppose I did love James then what about Philip, what were all these feelings about? She had never felt anything like this with James. With Philip she laughed, she smiled, she lived. She didn’t love him, she shook her head, of course she didn’t she hardly knew him. The thought was ridiculous. <br />She took her tea back to bed and cuddled under the sheets. If the world couldn’t see her then she couldn’t see the world. But it didn’t work for her any more than it did for small children. She needed to sort this out. It was all very well Philip telling her to stand up for herself, make James wait until she was ready. James wanted to know where he stood, and that was fair enough. Like white nose it buzzed and fuzzed and wouldn’t go away. Oh God, she pulled the quilt tighter over her head. She tried to focus on James’ face, to picture exactly what he looked like. The harder she tried the more she realised she couldn’t remember the last time she saw him smile. Philip, on the other hand, smiled all the time. She pushed Philip away and tried to focus back on James. She knew she didn’t love him when she married him. That was a fact. It was now that she needed to think about, did she love him now? The decision to leave had been too easy. It was made as soon as she knew about Mulberry cottage. Well all that told her was she wanted to get away from her old life. She was fed up with the endless social and business events, the bitching and backbiting of the other wives, which she had never fitted in with. And it was a bit boring if she was honest, she was busy every day with gym, swimming, shopping, entertaining, coffee mornings for one charity or another, there was always something to do, but there were days when she seemed to be in some kind of dream, not engaging with it all, and bored stiff. So it was the lifestyle she wanted to get away from and not James? She sighed, no it was James to. If she had loved him then she would have put up with it all, she would have enjoyed sharing his world with him, but she couldn’t and she hadn’t. She needed to be honest with herself and with him. If she ever had any feelings for him at all then they had faded, she may have cared for him but she hadn’t loved him. And for herself she needed to be loved and she needed approval and they were things James just couldn’t give her. For a long time she thought it was because she was not trying hard enough. But Philip liked her just as she was, he took her for herself. However hard you tried you could never make someone love you. Fair enough, they weren’t suited and that was that. She was sorry because it meant they had wasted six years. Maybe she should be angry, six precious years gone. But it was too late for that, and what would be the point of getting angry?<br />She went into the sitting room and pulled out some writing paper. It was old fashioned these days but she had always liked writing letters far more than the phone or emails. James had bought her a laptop two birthdays ago and set her up with an email account, in two year she had sent three and received four. It was one of the things she had left behind, it was a symbol of that old, must have it now, must do it now, must see it now life that she had left in London.<br />She sat for a long time staring at the blank paper. She bit the end of the pen. To say it all without hurting him, if that was possible. He did have feelings she was sure, he just didn’t choose to show them to her.<br />With a deep breath she started to write.<br /><br />Dear James,<br />I got your letter, and you are quite right to assume I’m in Cornwall. I’m living at Mulberry cottage and I intend to stay here.<br />You want to know what’s going on. When Rowena died she left me the cottage and most of her money, she also left me her shares in the company.<br />I honestly didn’t know whether I was leaving you or not, I just wanted to go. Now I’ve had some distance and time I’ve come to realise a few things, just as you say you have.<br />The first thing I’m now sure of is that you have never loved me. I think it would have been kinder not to ask me to marry you knowing that, and knowing I would say yes. I was a business deal and that hurts. I knew deep down at the time but I tried very hard to convince myself otherwise. I also tried very hard to make you love me and I failed. For a long time I blamed myself for that, now I know that there was nothing I could have done. I let you buy my clothes, choose my food when we went out, I let you dictate every aspect of my life, and it made no difference. I have spent my whole life trying to please people who don’t want to be pleased and I just couldn’t do it anymore.<br />The second thing I have come to realise is that I don’t love you either. I’m sorry if that sounds brutal. I do care for you, and I did think I loved you. Now I know I was trying to make it happen in the same way that I was trying to make you love me. I’m sure we could have muddled along together but we would have ended up hating each other.<br />Now I have tried to answer your questions I have one for you. I wasn’t the only woman you slept with while we were together was I? I don’t know how I could have let it get by me for so long. Now I think about it it’s so obvious, all those trips away, all those nights when you didn’t come home. It wasn’t a reason for leaving but it is a reason for not coming back.<br />And I know now that I’m not going to come back. For the moment I’m happy here and this is where I see myself. If you want a divorce then that’s fine. We need to admit to each other that there isn’t a future for us at the moment.<br />I’m sorry I wasn’t the person you wanted me to be. I tried so hard. And I’m sorry you couldn’t be the person I needed you to be. Maybe if we had met later it would have been different, who knows. I hope you find what you’re looking for James, I really do.<br />I hope this all makes some kind of sense; I was up all night whirling it around in my head.<br />Take care,<br />Imogen.<br /><br />She read it again, then again, and then put it in the envelope.<br /><br />Philip glanced across to the lane every time he crossed the farmyard. Usually she had come along by now, she always went into the village about the same time. He looked at his watch, nearly twelve. He frowned and went to the farm gate. He leaned over and craned his neck to see the cottage. He could just make out the French windows of the sitting room, he was sure the curtains were still closed. He went up to the farmhouse.<br />‘Mr T. Could I take my lunch a bit early today, there’s something I’ve gotta do.’<br />‘Sure boy, sure. And say hello to Imogen from us.’ Mr Tregowan smiled and made Philip blush.<br />‘Will do.’ he smirked.<br /><br />Imogen herd the knock but ignored it. She pulled the quilt back over her head. The knock came again.<br />‘Go away.’<br />‘Gin? Are you there? You ok?’ Philip opened the windows and scanned around for signs of life. ‘Hello?’<br />‘In here.’ A muffled voice came from the bedroom.<br />‘What are you doing under there? Sick?’ He went and opened the curtains.<br />‘Something like that.’<br />‘Can I get you anything?’<br />‘No. I’m fine.’<br />‘Are you going to come out form under there, or am I going to have to talk to a duvet all day?’<br />Imogen pocked her head out just enough to look at him. ‘I wrote back to James. I was up all night.’<br />‘Oh I see. Cup of tea?’ He went into the kitchen and put the kettle on. He saw Fred coming on the tractor and ducked down under the table.<br />‘What are you doing under there?’ Imogen shuffled in wrapped in the quilt.<br />‘I didn’t want Fred to see me. He’ll tell everyone he’d seen me in your kitchen. You don’t need the gossip.’<br />‘Oh Philip.’ Imogen burst out laughing. She stood rocking with laughter and Philip joined in, until he realised she wasn’t laughing anymore but sobbing uncontrollably. He scrabbled out from under the table and went over to her. He caught hold of her and held her to him. She didn’t resist but let him hold her; she buried her head in his shoulders.<br />‘I’m sorry.’ She mumbled into his t-shirt.<br />‘For what?’<br />‘For all this. You shouldn’t be seeing me like this. You shouldn’t have come round. Why did you come round?’<br />‘I didn’t see you go into the village. And then I saw that the curtains were still closed. I was worried.’<br />She pulled her face up out of his soggy clothes so that she could see his face. ‘I’ve made you all wet.’<br /> ‘That doesn’t matter, I’ll change later. Sit down and tell me.’<br />Imogen plopped down on a chair still wrapped in the quilt.<br />‘I was fine until I went to bed. Then it all started. I kept seeing the letter and James’s face. I know what we said in the café. I know what you said about making him wait until I was ready, and you were right. But I’m not like that, I know I should be but I‘m not. I was brought up to do as I was told. Anyway it’s better to get it sorted out. If I had left it then it would just have festered, been a shadow, and I wouldn’t like that. If I’m going to do this then it needs to be done properly. If James needs to know where he stands then it’s not fair to keep him in the dark, that wouldn’t make me a very nice person would it?’<br />‘No I suppose not. I’m sorry I stuck my beak in.’<br />‘Oh no! I was glad to talk to you. I like talking to you. And you were right, I did need to be sure of what I wanted before I replied. Anyway I lay there and it all kept going round and round, our wedding, the honeymoon, all of it. I tried to think of the last time we had fun together, and I couldn’t, isn’t that sad? I couldn’t remember hearing him laugh, not properly. He has two laughs. The fake, put on one he uses for his clients, and the real one. I heard the fake one all the time, but I can’t remember when I last heard the real one. I thought about how hard I tried to make him laugh. It was useless because I realised that I didn’t actually love him. It just sort of came to me. I sat there, drinking tea, and I realised that the reason I was here wasn’t because of anything James had done, it was because I didn’t love him. If I had then I could have put up with it all couldn’t I? Like mum does. Dad’s a sod and she’s scared of him, but she loves him to. She thought, for years, that dad didn’t love her, then the other day she found some old letters she had written him years ago. Dad’s not sentimental. He wouldn’t have kept them unless they had really meant something to him. She’d been covering for me but she said she couldn’t now she knew. As soon as dad finds out he’ll tell James anyway. All those years she had put up with him, thinking he didn’t love her, because she loved him. I couldn’t do that. While I was talking to her I realised I couldn’t live with a man who didn’t love me unless I loved him very much. The fact that I’m here and not there proves I don’t love James, and even if I did it wasn’t enough. So I sat down and told him.<br />I told him I knew he didn’t love me and that I was now sure I didn’t love him. I told him I was happy here and was staying for the time being. Then I said if he wanted a divorce then I wouldn’t stop him. And now I feel reached.’ She blew her nose on a bit of kitchen paper.<br />‘You’re tired.’<br />‘That to.’<br />‘Don’t you feel better though, getting it out there? I mean, like you said, keeping it bottled up isn’t a good idea. You’ve thought about it properly and come to your conclusions. That’s good. When you came you didn’t know how you felt or what you wanted to do about it, now you do. You feel crap because you know that what you’ve had to say to James isn’t nice, and you’re a nice person, you don’t like to hurt people. You feel guilty that you might hurt James by telling him the truth. But it would’ve been more painful for both of you if you hadn’t. Go back to bed. Get some sleep. When you wake up you’ll feel heaps better. You’ve done the best thing. You’ve been honest with yourself and with James. You can’t do anymore than that can you?’ Philip leant across the table and took her hands. ‘Look at me.’<br />Imogen lifted her face so that their eyes met.<br />‘You’ve done the right thing. Say it. Come on.’<br />‘I’ve done the right thing.’ She whispered.<br />‘Now say it like you believe it.’<br />‘I’ve done the right thing.’ She said loudly and smiled. She couldn’t not smile when he was looking at her like that.<br />‘Good girl. Now go back to bed and get some sleep. I’ll pop back after work.’<br />‘Thank you.’<br /> <br /><br />Chapter Twelve<br /><br />James stood in the shower with his eyes closed. He had the setting on maximum so that the water pounded at his body, reddening it and making it saw. He knew he should get out before it started to really hurt but somehow he needed it. It was punishment. It had been four days now, she must have had the letter, must have had time to read it. Every morning he waited for the post, and every morning he was disappointed.<br />When he couldn’t stand it anymore he turned the shower off and went into the bedroom. The bed was made and his clothes were laid out ready for him. He stood in front of the cheval mirror and looked at his naked self. The last few weeks had taken their toll. He had definatly lost weight, and there was some greying of hair here and there. It still had to be said though, he was in good nick for his age, fat lot of good it had done him. He sighed and started to pull his clothes on. Everything matched again now, and his socks were back in pairs. He still needed to find time to get a hair cut. He must do that this afternoon. If Imogen was going to come back now, then he needed to look his best. The clatter of the letterbox made him drop the hairbrush and head downstairs.<br />He picked up the post and shuffled though it, dropping half of it on the carpet. When he came to it his heart stopped, there it was. An envelope addressed to him in her writing. He dropped the rest down on the hall table and took Imogen’s letter through to the study. He ripped the envelope open and started to read greedily. The more he read the colder he felt. This wasn’t right, what was she saying? He read it again, then again. He sank down in the leather armchair. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. She was supposed to say that she was coming straight back. Instead she was talking about divorce. He didn’t want a divorce, what on earth gave her that idea? This was all wrong. She had got it all wrong. Ok maybe he hadn’t shown it, maybe he hadn’t even known it himself until recently, but he did love her. He had to tell her, he had to put her right. She’d got it all wrong. He ignored the bit about her not loving him, or the question of the other women, that could be sorted out later. Confusion flooded through him in giant waves making him feel seasick while he sat still in the chair. It took several seconds before he heard the phone ringing. Without knowing what he was doing he went into the hall to answer it.<br />‘Hello?’ he said almost in a whisper.<br />‘James. Henry. I wanted to make sure you had remembered the meeting this morning. It’s very important.’<br />‘Yes Henry I remember. And I know it’s important, aren’t they all?’ James rubbed his forehead and ran his hands through his hair. Henry’s words swam around him.<br />‘Good, good. And by the way have you heard anything from that silly little bitch yet? It’s been over a month now. People are starting to talk you know. It’s not good for business. She really is the limit running off like that without a thought for our position. I tell you when I find out where she is I’ll drag her back and…’<br />‘Oh Henry shut up! Just shut up!’ James shouted down the phone cutting his father-in-law off mid flow. ‘How dare you talk about my wife like that. Whatever she has done it is none of your business, do you understand? As it happens I do know where Imogen is, but if you think I’m going to tell you then you can go to hell. In fact why don’t you just do that Henry, why don’t you go to hell? I’ve had enough. That beautiful, intelligent, funny girl is your daughter, your child, someone you should be proud of. If she left then it’s our fault not hers, it’s us who should be feeling guilt not her. We drove her away. You forced her into marrying me knowing she didn’t want to, knowing I didn’t want to. You manipulated both of us to get what you wanted. You knew if I was your son-in-law then it would be all but impossible for me to leave the company. A chairmanship in exchange for marrying Imogen was very clever. I bought your daughter and that makes me pond life, but you, you sold your own daughter, what does that make you Henry?’<br />‘Don’t you dare pull that on me. You knew exactly what was going on and were only too happy to agree.’ Henry was hissing through his teeth, James knew this was usually a warning sign.<br />‘Yes, I know. And for six years I thought it was all right, I was so wrapped up in the job I didn’t see how unhappy Imogen was. I was a bastard, probably still am. For a long time there was no difference between us I admit. But now I think about all we have done, all we did to that poor girl and I feel physically sick. You, on the other hand, will never change will you? You’ve gone too far for that. Tell me something, do you love Cherith?’<br />Henry was silent for a moment. ‘None of your business.’ he said finally.<br />‘Maybe not but I’d like to know, do you actually know yourself?’<br />‘Of course I know, I’m not completely heartless.’<br />‘So?’<br />‘Yes. If you must know.’<br />‘And when was the last time you told her?’<br />‘None of your business.’<br />‘Never then. Well maybe you can live like that, but I don’t think I want to anymore. In fact I don’t think I want to do any of it anymore. And I certainly don’t want to end up like you. You’ll have to chair the meeting yourself this morning. I have other things to do.’ And he slammed the phone down, then lifted the receiver back up and put it off the hook.<br />Bloody hell, he thought, were did all that come from? He was shaking as he went back into the study. He took off his tie and threw it across the back of the chair. He looked at the whisky bottle. It would be very easy to spend the day with that bottle. By this evening he wouldn’t know or care what had happened. He pulled his hand away. He went into the kitchen to make coffee instead. He took the mug out into the garden and sat on the stone steps that led down to the vast lawn. It was one of her favourite places to sit. He could see her sitting here on sunny days, like today. How had it come to this, such a mess? He shook his head and looked out across the lawn to the flower borders and pond. It was beautiful, it was all beautiful, the house, the garden, the antiques and paintings, but what did it all mean? He had never thought of himself as a happy person, not since Lizzie. But sitting here feeling like this he realised that he had been happy for the last six years, and now it had all gone to hell. He could try and pinpoint the moment, but he knew it would be a waste of time. It didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered now except how he was going to get it all back. If someone had told him a month ago that he would be thinking about how he was going to get Imogen back he would have laughed. His first reaction had been sod her, let her go if she wants to, what did he care. Now he seemed to care very much.<br />The urge to pack up and go straight to Cornwall was an itch he knew he mustn’t scratch, not yet. If he went there now it would be for the wrong reasons, for selfish reasons. He had spent enough of his life being selfish, had he ever not been? He shook his head. Once, many years ago, he had been willing to do anything for someone else. That someone had thrown it back in his face, he had accepted it and lost her. This time he would not let go so easily. He had absolutely no idea how he was going to go about getting Imogen back here, but he was sure he was going to have a dam good try.<br /><br />Imogen and Philip sat with their backs against the slate rocks that jutted out in lines gashing into the sandy shale of the beach. They had the cove to themselves again this morning.<br />‘I’ve gotta get down here with my camera before I go home, we’ve got nothing like this. You can see why people paint it and write poems about it.’ Philip said.<br />‘I’m going to come here every day, well once a week at least. You know there are people in the village who have lived here all their lives and have never been down here? I suppose if it’s there and you know you can come whenever you like then you somehow don’t. I was just as bad in London, all those galleries and museums and I hardly ever went.’<br />‘I liked London, but it’s got nothing on this place. Maybe it’s the people.’ He grinned and caught her eye.<br />‘Oh undoubtedly.’ She started to giggle, he was flirting with her again and she was feeling sixteen.<br />‘A swim, we should have a swim. That water is looking too good to leave empty.’<br />‘Remember last time?’<br />‘Humm… Well it’s really warm today, blue sky, sun, it must have warmed up a bit.’<br />‘After you then.’<br />‘Oh no! If I’m going in then you’re coming with me this time.’ Philip grabbed her hand and dragged her to her feet. ‘Come on, shoes off.’ He kicked his flip-flops off.<br />‘I’m waiting.’ He put his hands on his hips and took up the stance of an impatient schoolteacher, trying very hard to look stern and not laugh.<br />Imogen stood equally determined not to take off her own flip-flops and stay were she was. They stood face to face for at least two minutes before she started to laugh, he did look so funny.<br />‘Oh bloody hell!’ She kicked her flip-flops off and took a step towards the water. Before she could change her mind he grabbed her hand and started to run towards the water.<br />‘OH SHIT!!’ He shouted as they hit the sea.<br />‘AHGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!’ Imogen screamed. ‘Oh Fu….dgecakes that’s cold!’<br />‘Don’t be such a woos.’ Philip plunged his hands in the near freezing sea and flung the cold water all over her.<br />‘Sod!’ she did the same, and soon they were splashing about like a pair of seven year olds, they could have heard the screams a mile inland.<br />By the time they staggered back to the beach they were dripping from head to toe, and shivering.<br />‘It’s a perversity of this country that it can be a blazing hot day on land, sweat dripping off you. But the sea doesn’t seem to get the message. Dose nobody bother to tell it it’s supposed to be summer?’ He threw Imogene a towel and started to strip his shirt off.<br />Imogen tried very hard to focus her attention on drying her hair, but her eyes kept wandering to his naked torso. He was shaking his shirt out which was making the muscles in his upper arms ripple. Then he turned and bent down to lay it over a rock, this made his shorts ride down slightly revealing the paler skin bellow his waist that wasn’t normally seen, she bit her lip. Suddenly he bobbed upright and spun round, caching her. She blushed down to and threw her hair roots, burying her head in the towel she started to rub rather too vigorously.<br />‘I think your hair’s dry now.’ he was smiling that smile that told her he knew exactly what she was thinking so it was pointless hiding.<br />She lowered the towel and folded it neatly. ‘Maybe…um… Maybe we should have some coffee, warm up.’ She turned away and started furteling in the picnic basket for the flask and mugs, she was dropping things onto the sand and struggling to keep hold of anything. He came up beside her and put a calming hand on her elbow. Gently he pulled her around to face him. Without a word he pulled her to him and kissed her. It was the kind of kiss she had read about but never thought actually existed. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breath, all she could do was stand there and be kissed. It only lasted a few second before he pulled away, let her go and carried on getting the flask and mugs out of the basket. Imogen stood for a moment in the exact position he had left her in, had that actually just happened? She turned and he was standing there pouring coffee, she did a double take. A moment ago he was kissing her like she had never been kissed before. Now he was pouring them coffee. Fine, ok, coffee would be good.<br />She sat drinking in silence. Philip was shaking his shirt out and putting it back on. She watched every movement, holding her breath. Three, four, there, five, he always left the last two buttons undone. He looked across at her and smiled. She started to breath again and finished her coffee.<br /><br />‘I’ve got to go to Truro tomorrow, but I’ll be about the day after.’<br />‘So will I.’<br />‘See you then?’<br />‘See you then.’ Imogen jumped down out of the Land Rover and swung the door closed.<br />‘I loved today, thank you.’ She said<br />‘I loved it to.’<br />‘Good.’ And he bumped the car back to the farm.<br />So that was that then. She walked slowly back up the garden path past the Mulberry tree.<br />‘So he kissed you?’ Rowena’s voice filtered through to her.<br />‘Yes. How did you know?’<br />‘It’s written all over your face.’<br />‘I should have stopped him.’ Imogen looked down at her damp flip-flops.<br />‘Rubbish! You should have kissed him back.’<br />‘Row! He’s eighteen!’<br />‘And you’re only twenty six, maybe I wouldn’t have kissed him, but you certainly should have.’<br />‘I’m not listening, you’re not really here.’<br />‘Whatever you say dear. But it was the best thing that’s happened to you in a long time wasn’t it?’<br />‘Maybe.’ She kicked at a stray leaf.<br />‘I’ll take that as a yes. When are you seeing him again?’<br />‘Day after tomorrow.’ Imogen sighed. ‘He’s got to go to Truro tomorrow.’<br />‘Forty eight hours is such a long time when you’re in love.’<br />‘I’m not in love.’ Imogen was indignant.<br />‘Not yet maybe, but nearly. He makes you feel like you’ve never felt before? You can’t take your eyes off him when you’re together? You’re thinking about him when you’re not with him? And you haven’t thought about James for days? Am I right?’<br />‘Oh bloody hell Row, what am I going to do?’ She slumped down at the foot of the tree and dropped her head.<br />‘Go with it dear. Take whatever he offers you and don’t give back more than you can afford to loose. Have fun. I’ve told you before; fun is not something to be scared of.’<br />‘But he’ll be going back to Australia in September.’<br />‘That’s weeks away. I suspect he knows what he’s doing.’<br />‘But I don’t want to hurt him. What if things get too serious? I’m not up to another commitment yet.’<br />‘You won’t hurt him. He’ll be sad to leave you, and you him. But he’ll survive. Ifs and buts are not good enough reasons to not do things. If you do fall in love with each other, I mean properly, then would that be such a bad thing? Would being happy with someone be such a bad thing? Maybe he’ll stay here and you’ll get married and live happily ever after. Maybe you’ll have a bloody good summer together, and then part with good memories. My money’s on the latter.’<br />‘If I didn’t know better I’d say you’d sent him here.’<br />‘That’s something you’ll never know.’<br />Imogen rose and went up to the cottage. Before she let herself in she looked back at the Mulberry tree, the branches were swaying slightly in a soft wave, but there was no wind. She smiled and nodded.<br /><br />The next morning was beautiful, like a postcard. Imogen took her tea out into the garden. She had been there six weeks and so far had done little out here. She looked about her and realised the weeds were starting to take over and the grass was in desperate need of a haircut. She bit her lip. Rowena had been so proud of her garden and spent every day she could out here. When she fell ill one of the first things she did was get someone organized to do the garden. As a child Imogen had helped and had always loved it. Her parents had a gardener so she was never allowed to get too involved at home. When she was here she could roll up her sleeves and get thoroughly dirty. James had a huge garden and she had been quite excited about getting out into it. But James had a gardener to. Sometimes, when she had the place to herself, she would go out and have a fuddle about, but most of it had been done and she was reduced to a couple of deadheads.<br />She wandered around sipping her tea and taking it all in. The borders were the worst, the weeds hadn’t taken over yet but they were having a damn good try. Well she had a free day so she decided to tackle as much of it as she could. The shed would be a good start.<br />The shed was around the back of the house in the vegetable garden. Although the garden surrounded the cottage the majority was to the front and back with paths running at both sides connecting the areas together. Imogen took the path that ran around the bedroom and bathroom side of the cottage that brought her to the edge of the vegetable garden. It was very sad around there. From the kitchen she could see that there were no longer veg growing. In fact the whole area had been kept strimmed and tidy by the gardener but had basically been left to itself. The wild flowers looked pretty but she knew they shouldn’t really be there. Until Rowena became too ill to manage it she grew all her own veg and herbs. This back part of the garden was laid out in neat oblong beds with grass paths between, each bed overflowing with all sorts of things you could never buy in the supermarkets. Now it was hard to tell were the paths ended and the beds began. Well she couldn’t do it all today so she decided to concentrate on the front, she wouldn’t have a clue how to go about setting the vegetable patch back to rights but she did know how to weed. She unlocked the shed and had a rummage. It was the tidiest shed she had ever seen. It took no time to find a bucket and hand fork, that would do for now.<br />By lunchtime she had cleared one side of the long border that ran from the cottage down to the gate of everything she thought was not a plant and was a weed. She stood up and stretched, it certainly did for your back, not bad for a start. She took the third full bucket around to the compost bins, hoping she hadn’t pulled up anything important. Then she went in to get something to eat.<br />While she was making a serious cheese and pickle sandwich the phone rang.<br />She picked up the receiver and tried to lick the stray pickle off her fingers.<br />‘Hello?’<br />‘Hello darling it’s mum.’<br />‘Hi mum. How are you?’<br />‘Fine darling, fine. I was just checking it was still all right for the eleventh?’<br />‘Oh, yes, fine.’ Shit, Imogen thought, she had forgotten, it was the day after tomorrow and she hadn’t spoken to Molly yet. She crossed her fingers behind her back. ‘I’m looking forward to it.’<br />‘Oh good. I only hope your father doesn’t blow a gasket when he find out. I still feel so guilty, if only I hadn’t found those letters.’<br />‘I’m sorry mum.’<br />‘Don’t keep saying that, you have nothing to be sorry for. If anyone should be apologizing it should be me. I chose to let it all happen. I allowed us both to be bullied. If I had known that he loved me then I would have stood up to him. I spent years loving a man I thought was just putting up with me and I was terrified of loosing him. Pathetic is the only word. I should never have put my own fears before your best interests. I should have stood up to your father and stopped him. I should have risked him leaving me. If I’d found those bloody letters seven years ago then who knows?’<br />‘It probably wouldn’t have changed much. All that would have happened is that dad would hate you as well as me. I’m glad you found the letters, I’m glad you finally know how he feels about you, you deserve it.’<br />‘I deserve for you to never speak to me again.’<br />‘Oh mum never. I love you to bits. I could never have survived so long without you. I knew you always tried to be on my side. Yes I felt let down for a while. I thought you’d deserted me, but only for a while. The older I got the more I saw how hard it was for you living with dad. Don’t blame yourself. You’d have to be a pretty hard person not to wilt. He’s like a blowtorch, unless you have very heavy-duty protection you’re going to get burnt.’<br />‘Maybe.’ Cherith sighed deeply. ‘We’ll never know now will we. It’s kind of you to forgive me, but I’ll always feel the guilt, it’s what mothers do. I still feel guilty about you falling off the garden wall and breaking your little finger.’<br />‘Did I? When was that?’<br />‘Oh you would have been about three. You see you don’t even remember it, but I’ll never forgive myself for letting go of your hand like that. I was only waving to Mrs Thing from next door.’<br />‘I remember Mrs Thing. Did she have a real name?’<br />‘I expect so. Funny woman, never took her apron off. I used to imagine her going to bed in it, it was always spotless but you never saw it on the washing line. I liked her. I missed her when we moved. I’m surprised you remember anything about that first house. Your father won’t admit we ever lived in a terraced house. I mean it wasn’t a two up two down was it, it was a three-bedroom town house. Not a good enough postcode that was the trouble. That and the fact that granddad had bought it for us when we married. He couldn’t move quickly enough, which was a shame because I quite liked that house. It was a damn sight better than the one he moved us to. Poky little place, better postcode though. Oh if only I’d found those letters sooner so much might have been different.’<br />‘Are you going to tell him you’ve found them?’<br />‘I don’t know. But I know I shall be less inclined to take his nonsense from now on.’ Cherith said firmly.<br />‘So have you told him you’re coming down?’<br />‘No I’m leaving things as they are. He’ll find out from Mrs Davis and by then I’ll be there. With any luck we can have a day or two together before I have to speak to him. He’ll call from the golf resort and shout a lot but I’m used to that. So I’ll see you in two days then?’<br />‘See you then. Take care, it’s a long journey.’<br />‘I’m the mother, let me do the worrying.’<br />Imogen put the phone down and picked it straight back up again.<br />‘Molly? It’s Gin.’<br />‘Hello Ginny dear, how are you? We were going to come and see you after lunch.’<br />‘That would be lovely. Molly I’m afraid I have a huge favour to ask.’ Imogen crossed her fingers.<br />‘What’s that then dear?’<br />‘Well mum’s coming down the day after tomorrow and I kind of said you would put her up. I meant to ask two weeks ago when she first mentioned it, but…well…I sort of got involved in other things. I’m so sorry to ask at such short notice.’ Imogen stopped to take a breath.<br />‘But I’d love to have Cherith here. I’m so glad she’s coming; it’ll be so nice to see her again. The spare room is always made up. Harry, my eldest, do you remember him? Anyway he’s always plopping down on me with no notice at all so two days is ages. I’ll make some scones, you and Eleanor must come over and we’ll have proper high tea, it’ll be lovely.’ Molly sounded genuinely excited and Imogen felt better.<br />‘So what were you dong when you were supposed to be telling me about you mother?’<br />‘Oh… Umm… This and that, you know.’ Bother she was hoping to get away with that, but Molly and Eleanor were masters of gossip.<br />‘So how is Philip?’ Molly tried hard to keep the giggle out of her voice.<br />‘Fine, I should think. I mean I wouldn’t really know.’ Sound casual, sound casual.<br />‘Whatever you say dear. See you later then.’<br /><br />Imogen took her sandwich out and sat under the Mulberry tree. Boris appeared as if by magic at her side.<br />‘Oh hello, smelt the cheese did we?’<br />‘Meow.’ He put his paw up and patted the plate. Imogen broke a corner off and dropped it on the grass for him, together they ate and watched the soft wind play with the leaves and flowers, making them dance just for them. She could have sat there all day watching, in fact that was exactly what Boris intended to do and he settled himself down for the afternoon. Imogen, however, knew she had weeds to deal with. She brushed the crumbs off her jeans and picked up the bucket.<br />Two hours later she had cleared everything she knew to be a weed. There were some things she was not sure about so she left them to see what they might do. Now she just needed to mow the lawn. She had been putting it off but there was nothing left to do at the front. She took a deep breath and went back to the shed.<br />There sat a fierce looking piece of green and red metal. Why couldn’t Rowena have had a nice little fly mow? This was monstrous; she could see the teeth from here. With trepidation she went in and got behind it. She would push it out and around to the front, then she would see. When it was sat in the middle of the front lawn it didn’t look any less menacing. What she was supposed to do now she had no idea. She went into the kitchen and rummaged through the draws in the hope of finding an instruction book. It was a slim hope, the mower was nearly as old as her and the manual would have been long since lost or thrown away. There was nothing else for it.<br /><br />She walked up to the farmhouse and knocked. Mrs Tragowen called for her to come in so she went through the house into the cavernous kitchen. It was like something from a fifties film. She remembered coming in here for tea sometimes with Rowena. Nothing had changed. There was nothing in there that was newer than the seventies, and it all seemed to be in daily use. The fridge was a monumental thing that took up a corner all to itself and hummed loudly, the green police would have a fit. The wallpaper was a milky coffee colour and made to look like tiles, every now and then dotted with a bunch of brown flowers. The table was made of white Formica with red Formica legs and would have been the height of fashion forty years ago. The cupboards too were what was politely called vintage. They were a soft butter yellow Formica with white plastic handles. Imogen could imagine her London friends having palpitations and calling a decorator straight away, but it was one of the most charming places she had ever been in. It was cosy and warm and welcoming, and she was glad the twenty-first century hadn’t caught up with it.<br />‘Hello maid, what can we do for you?’ Mrs Tragowen was sitting at the table peeling carrots that Imogen knew she had just been out and pulled from the garden.<br />‘I was wondering if Mr Tragowen was around, I have a bit of a problem with my mower.’<br />‘I’m sorry lovely but he’s out until this evening. Philip’s here though.’ She gave Imogen a sly smile. ‘I’ll give him a shout.’ Before Imogen could protest Mrs Tragowen had disappeared out into the yard.<br />‘I’ve sent him round, he’ll meet you there.’ She smiled again. ‘Lovely boy, do anything for anyone you know. Nice manners to, not like some of the lads from the village.’<br />‘Yes. I thought he was going to Truro today?’<br />‘He is. He should have gone this morning but the Land Rover’s playing up again, soon as it’s fixed he’ll be going. You’d better go, he’ll be waiting. Nice to see you lovely. Come round for tea won’t you. Or for your supper one night.’<br />‘I will, thank you.’<br />‘Let us have him back now won’t you.’ Mrs Tragowen called after her.<br />They all thought she was at it with Philip! Imogen couldn’t believe it. It was one thing Molly and Eleanor ribbing her but now everyone seemed to know. She hurried back to the cottage burning with embarrassment. It was stupid. She knew there was nothing going on, not really, she had nothing to be embarrassed about.<br />She opened the gate and saw Philip standing next to the mower looking at it very hard. He hadn’t seen her. She stopped and looked at him. He really was very good looking and her heart skipped. She hadn’t seen him since he had kissed her and it was all she could think of. She felt his arms and his lips, smelt his breath and the tang of his body. She shivered and took a few deep breaths. She mustn’t let him see her like this. He mustn’t know he was having this kind of affect on her. He looked up then and smiled.<br />‘Bit of a dinosaur isn’t it?’ He walked around it, getting the measure of his opponent.<br />‘I dread to think how old, it’s been here as long as I can remember. It’s terrifying.’<br />‘I wouldn’t go that far.’<br />‘I would. Do you think you can use it?’<br />‘Oh sure I can, but it’s not my lawn.’<br />‘But I can’t use it!’ Imogen was horrified at the very thought.<br />‘Why no? I’ll get it going for you. I thought that was what you wanted?’<br />‘Well yes, but I was hoping…well that you might cut the grass to?’ She gave her best smile and tried to bat her eyelashes.<br />‘And what makes you think you can’t do it yourself?’ He stood with his arms folded looking like a disapproving parent.<br />‘I could never use that thing! It’s enormous! It’s too heavy for a start.’ She said firmly and folded her own arms.<br />‘So Row had a gardener come and do it for her did she?’ Philip knew the answer.<br />Imogen looked down at the ground. ‘No, she used to do it herself.’ she said quietly.<br />‘So if she could do it why can’t you?’ He was doing his best not to smile and to sound serious.<br />Imogen was silent, she couldn’t think of anything to say to that. It was pathetic to run to a man to come to her rescue. She could see what a sad specimen she must look. But the mower was huge and scary and she had no idea how to use it.<br />‘I tell you what.’ Philip sighed. ‘I’ll get it started and do a couple of runs up and down, then you can have a go. How does that sound?’ It was cruel to tease. Of course he would do it.<br />‘Ok.’ her voice had shrunk to match her courage.<br />Philip squatted down to have a closer look. He nodded to himself and stood up. He reached down and undid the petrol cap, peered in, nodded again, put the cap back and took hold of the starter cord. He gave it a few hard yanks and each time the beast woke a little more until, on the fifth pull it growled into consciousness. Imogen watched in awe as he jiggled some leavers around and started to slowly jerk forward. After a few moments he had got the upper hand and had started to walk slowly across the lawn. She was never going to be able to do that. She could see the muscles in his arms straining the tight fabric of his t-shirt, so he was having to put some effort into controlling it. She should be watching what he was doing, there would be questions later, but all she could see was the contours of his body, which were starting to reveal themselves as he started to sweat in the August heat. The hotter he got the damper the shirt got and the more it clung. By the time he had done his half of the lawn she was biting her lip so hard she was expecting to see blood.<br />He pulled the snarling mower up beside her and eased it to a stop. ‘Right then, your turn.’ He stepped away and indicated that she should take over.<br />‘Oh but you’ve done half, you might as well finish.’ The fear of the mower mixed with the desire to keep watching him meant she really, really didn’t want to do it.<br />‘Come on.’ He came over and took her hand. He pulled her across to the mower and put her hands on the handles. ‘Just squeeze this leaver here and then release that other one with your thumb. When you feel it starting to move then grip firmly.’ For a moment there she was wondering if he was actually talking about the mower. ‘Pull back against it so it doesn’t get away from you. Then start to walk very slowly. Ok, off you go.’<br />‘But I can’t. Honestly Philip I really can’t.’<br />‘Of course you can. I’ll walk along beside you and grab it if it starts to get away.’<br />Imogen sighed, he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. She tried to do everything he had told her but her head was spinning and all she could think of was a vision of herself being dragged into the hedge. She closed her eyes and released the leaver with her thumb. The mower leapt forward and she instinctively pulled her whole body backwards to resist it.<br />‘Now start to walk forward.’ Philip put his hand on her back and gave her a little push.<br />She took a step and felt the blades starting to bite into the grass. She opened her eyes and found she was mowing, she was doing it. It was taking every ounce of her strength to keep control, but she was doing it. She had no idea if Philip was beside her or not, she was concentrating so hard. By the time she had finished the second half of the lawn she was exhausted. Philip was standing next to her laughing his head off as she came to a stop and turned the machine off.<br />‘What?’ she demanded.<br />‘You should have seen yourself, your face. I wish I had a camcorder. It was priceless. Do you always stick your tongue out? And the frown! Hilarious.’<br />Imogen couldn’t help laughing to.<br />‘But I did it didn’t I?’<br />‘Yes you did, I told you you could. How does it feel?’<br />‘Bloody marvellous actually.’<br /><br />Philip emptied the grass box into the compost bin and hosed down the blades. Imogen went into the kitchen to find them a cold drink. She could see him from the kitchen window and couldn’t help smiling to herself. Today had nothing to do with teaching her to use the lawnmower. He came in brushing the last of the grass off of his cut off jeans.<br />‘Thanks.’ He took the glass Imogen offered him and gulped it down. ‘That’s better.’<br />‘How do you always know what it is I need and when I need it?’ She leant against the table and sipped her lemonade.<br />‘I can read minds.’ He grinned and winked.<br />‘Of course. They teach it in Australian schools.’<br />‘Absolutely.’ He grinned.<br />‘Seriously though.’<br />‘I like you, a lot. And I care about the people I like. It strikes me they’re things you’ve never had a lot of. Mum always says I have a way of connecting with people, she says the fairies must have cast some of their magic over me when I used to sleep in the garden when I was a kid.’<br />‘Maybe they did.’<br />‘Maybe. But I just see that a relationship is a two way thing, if you get something then you should give something back.’<br />‘But all I’ve done is take from you. What have I given back?’<br />‘You’re here.’<br />Imogen blushed deeply. ‘Don’t tease.’<br />‘I’m not, I mean it. You really don’t know how special you are do you? You’re one of those rare people who are beautiful, clever, funny and kind and have no idea, you think you’re nothing special, that you’re unimportant, but everyone around here thinks the world of you, loves you even.’<br />‘I don’t know what to say to that.’ It wasn’t the kind of thing people usually said to each other, not British people anyway. She knew he meant it, he wasn’t the sort of person to say things just to flatter, unlike some.<br />‘You don’t have to say anything, but it’s true.’<br />‘Thank you. But what about you? You’re not like any man I’ve ever met. You say I’m not affected by my qualities but nor are you. Half the women in the parish are in love with you you know.’<br />‘Only half?’<br />She poked her tongue out at him.<br />‘Having women fancy you doesn’t mean much unless it’s the woman you want. Now if she had feelings for me then that would be something.’ He was looking at her so intently she had to look away.<br />‘Maybe she has. Maybe you should ask her.’<br />Philip came towards her until he was so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. With the table behind her she had no way of escape, not that she really wanted one.<br />‘Maybe I will ask her, or maybe I should wait for her to tell me.’<br />‘Oh I don’t think you should do that. She might be too shy.’ She could almost hear his heart beating, and her own was deafening.<br />‘So what should I do?’ He was so close they were nearly touching. His skin was tingling with the sensation of being this close to her, he wanted to make that final step, to kiss her again, but he had to know it was what she wanted. The other day was fantastic but it had been foolhardy, she could well have slapped his face. He had risked spoiling it all for a moment of weakness. He’d got away with it but he wasn’t going to risk it again.<br />‘I think you should do something to show her how you feel.’ She was nearly breathless and could only manage to speak in a whisper.<br />He needed no more encouragement. He leant forward and took hold of her shoulders. He pulled her gently to him and kissed her. This time she was ready for him and kissed him back, letting her arms find their way around his neck. They kissed as if they were about to die and this was their last act on earth.<br />‘Oh!’ Molly exclaimed.<br />‘Well done.’ Eleanor gave a little clap.<br />Imogen and Philip sprung apart like they had touched a live wire. Molly and Eleanor stood in the kitchen doorway.<br />‘We couldn’t make anyone here but we saw the windows open so we knew you were about.’ said Molly.<br />‘But we didn’t know you had company.’ Eleanor grinned.<br />‘I should go.’ Philip turned to the French windows. ‘Thanks for the drink.’<br />‘That’s ok. And thank you for doing the lawn.’ They both sounded so comically formal and knew they were not fooling anyone. They had been caught red handed, so to speak.<br />Imogen turned to face the two women who were both nearly helpless with laughter.<br />‘Tea?’ She asked in a strangled squeak.<br />‘Lovely.’ Molly managed to say before giving in to the giggles. ‘I’m sorry dear, maybe we should go?’<br />‘No don’t do that. I’m sorry you had to see that. Actually no I’m not. I mowed half the lawn all by myself and then kissed a very sexy young man. I think I might be quite proud of myself.’ She was still flushed but only partly from being caught.<br />‘Good for you!’ Eleanor gave her a big hug. ‘Row would have been proud. She would have wondered why it had taken you so long, but she would have been proud.’<br />‘Oh Eleanor stop teasing her. No one likes to be caught in the act, as it where.’ She smiled at Imogen. ‘And we only came over to have a chat and see what Cherith’s plans were.’<br />‘Yes you did say your were coming on the phone didn’t you? I’m afraid I forgot.’<br />‘Perfectly understandable in the circumstances.’ Eleanor said.<br />‘Shall we take this into the garden?’ Imogen held up the tray of tea things. The three women went out into the garden. As they drank their tea Imogen heard the Land Rover start up and blushed.claire phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16313963622279623204noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5637493278275929558.post-84954087494492312432009-02-09T05:39:00.000-08:002009-02-09T05:43:34.819-08:00Chapters 9&10.Chapter Nine.<br /><br />James looked at the calendar. It has been three weeks now. He picked up the post on his way to the kitchen and dumped it on the pile on the hall table. It was Monday morning, it was nine o’clock and he had only just made it down stairs. Three weeks ago Imogen would have had him breakfasted and out the door half an hour ago as she did every morning. He flicked the kettle on and scratched his stubbly chin. Diving his hand in the sink he fished around for a mug that may, or may not be clean. As he pulled his hand out with his prize a pile of plates cascaded to the floor.<br />‘Sod it.’ James kicked them out of the way and plodded over to the fridge to fetch non-existent milk. ‘Sod it, sod it!’ He abandoned the kitchen and went through to the study. If there was no milk there was definatly whisky.<br />A few sips later James felt ready to tackle a shower. The water was hot and sharp and stung him like a million angry bees and it was fantastic. Twenty minutes later he was in his car driving to the office. Bloody Henry had stolen his driver. His mobile rang. James looked at the display, groaned and pulled over.<br />‘Morning Henry.’<br />‘Do you know what the bloody time is? There are people to be seen this morning.’<br />‘I know, I’m on my way. I’m sorry, the alarm didn’t go off.’ And I’d be there a dam sight quicker if you stopped calling me to tell me I’m late.<br />‘Again? I think you need to get a new one, and quickly.’ The line went quiet, and James sighed. As an excuse a dodgy alarm was pathetic but it was all he could think of. Normally he could bullshit for England, especially with Henry, his carear depended on it after all.<br />This morning it would be a party from the New York office that he had been visiting three weeks ago. The Americans were the hardest; there was no pulling the wool over their eyes. It had always surprised him that the easiest clients to bullshit were the British. Most Englishmen were basically snobs and a few words in his perfect, cut glass, old Etonian voice and a flash of the Saville row tailoring had them eating out of his hand. Especially if they thought that buying into the business would buy them into the ‘lifestyle’. The yanks though, they could be tricky. The women liked his charm and the accent, but the men were harder to crack. Usually he took them home for dinner and let Imogen work her magic. She had a knack of making anyone feel at ease. She had not a snobbish bone in her body, but when she spoke she sounded like Princess Dianna and she had a disarming smile. Couple that with her stunning blonde hair and a refreshing lack of make up or fancy jewellery and the Yankee hard men melted. <br />As he drew up outside the office building James wondered if Olwen would have the same effect. He flicked his mobile open.<br />‘Olwen. James.’<br />‘Hello James.’ Her voice said ‘oh what now’ but he didn’t seem to notice.<br />‘I was wondering if I could ask a favour?’<br />‘You can ask. I might not say yes.’<br />‘Could you pop over tonight and play hostess to a few Americans? If you could cook dinner and smile sweetly to soften them up a bit I’d be appreciative.’<br />‘Is this a joke James?’<br />‘No. You see it’s the yanks, and Imogen usually gave them some home cooking and charmed them for me. Trouble is she’s still not back.’<br />Olwen stood in her living room open mouthed. He really did expect her to drop everything and spend the day cooking dinner for an unknown number of American clients who she was then expected to talk into whatever it was he was trying to sell them. ‘And what do I do with the children James? Are they invited? And while I’m cooking this meal will you be doing my ironing and taking the cat to the vets?’<br />‘Well no. But Jonathan could do all that. I can give you a menu and I know Imogen finds Waitrose very good, and that’s on your way over.’<br />Without another word Olwen put the phone down and stood in shear disbelief. What planet was James on for God sake? Did he honestly expect her to agree to it? Did he think that because she was a woman she would jump to his command? Well Imogen might have but she was not Imogen. She shook her head and went back to the ironing.<br />That’s a no then, James thought. Imogen would have immediately asked what he wanted to feed them and how many and what time. When he got home it would be immaculate and so would she, there would be wine cooling and flowers arranged. He would have to invent a nasty bought of flu for her and take them to a restaurant.<br /><br />It was such a beautiful day that Imogen decided to get the push bike out of the garage and ride into the village. The last time she had been on a bike was the last time she had been here. She decided to have a few goes up and down the lane before venturing onto the open road. It was a good job no one could see her as she wobbled and swerved her way past the farm gate. She looked around and was glad to see no one in the farmyard. Not that it would matter if there were, she told herself. When she pulled up outside the gate she saw Boris sitting watching her. She remembered Rowena telling of how she had trained him to ride in the basket on the front. They looked at each other for a moment and then, without a word from Imogen, Boris jumped into the basket and settled down.<br />‘Well on your head be it. I haven’t ridden for years you know. We might end up in a ditch.’ Boris rolled his eyes and scratched his ear.<br />Finally she decided it was safe for other road users for her to tackle the proper road and actual traffic. It soon became clear that the London mentality had not yet left her. Any fear of being knocked off her bike by a stream of speeding cars quickly vanished. From the bike she could see even more than from the beetle. Plants that had been a blur before jumped out at her from the hedgerows and verges in stunning clarity.<br />‘Oh Boris why did it take me so long to come back? Why did I ever listen to them all?’<br />Imogen pulled the bike up outside the post office. ‘Now what? Do you stay there?’ Boris looked up, then turned round and curled himself up in a tight ball. ‘Obviously.’<br />‘Did I see Boris?’ Mr Penharren was putting a poster in the window for the next wine and wisdom night. ‘I haven’t seen him doing that for well over a year. Your auntie always used to bring him when she came in on the bike, never seen anything like it.’ he smiled. ‘I’ll get your bread.’ and he disappeared through the bead curtain.<br />‘Cool bike, love the cat.’<br />Imogen jumped like a guilty teenager at the sound of his voice. She spun round rather too quickly and nearly knocked Phillip over.<br />‘Yes.’ she said. ‘He likes it, Rowena, my aunt, trained him you see. She was like that, did things like that.’ Oh God. She was sounding like, what was she sounding like? An idiot, you’re sounding like an idiot, shut up immediately.<br />‘Your bread.’ Mr Penharren reappeared to save her.<br />‘Thank you.’ Imogen squeaked. She scurried out of the door trying very hard not to make eye contact with Phillip, who was looking rather puzzled.<br />‘Come on Boris, time to go home.’ She went to put the bread in the basket, then realised that she couldn’t. She was deciding whether to hang the bag over the handle or try to ride with it in her hand when Phillip appeared beside her.<br />‘Shall I carry that for you?’ he indicated her bag. ‘Or aren’t you going straight home?’<br />‘Yes, I mean no. I’m not going anywhere else. Thank you.’ she handed him the bag. She turned the bike around and they started walking back towards the farm.<br />‘Lovely day.’ Imogen winced at such a lame way to open a conversation.<br />‘Great. So have you decided yet?’<br />‘Decided?’<br />‘If you’re going to stay. You said you hadn’t decided.’<br />‘Oh yes. I think so. In fact I’ve been wondering why I didn’t come back years ago.’<br />‘I thought you said you’d inherited the cottage?’ Phillip looked confused.<br />‘Oh yes, well I did. But I used to come and stay with my aunt. I used to come for the summer holidays.’<br />‘So why d’ya stop?’<br />Imogen looked down and watched the wheels slowly turning. ‘It’s a long story.’ she said. ‘But my father decided it was for the best.’<br />‘And you didn’t.’<br />‘No.’ He was looking at her like that again, like he could read her mind. She fell silent. Talking about such personal things was not something she had been brought up to do, especially not with strangers.<br />‘I’ve hit a sore spot haven’t I?’ He looked concerned.<br />‘Sort of, I suppose.’ she tailed off.<br />‘You don’t have to tell me anything. You can tell me to sod off if you like.’ He was smiling that smile which, she realised, was going to prove impossible to resist. It would be good to talk to someone who wasn’t involved. She took a deep breath.<br />‘Rowena was dads elder sister and to say they didn’t get on would be a huge understatement. I think it would be fair to say that dad actually hated her in later years. I have no idea what happened between them. For years I blamed myself. They had a huge row when he said I couldn’t come anymore. But I soon learnt that it went much, much deeper and further back than that.’<br />‘So if they hated each other how come you were allowed to come for holidays?’<br />‘I didn’t ask at the time, but I think it was convenient for dad to have a small child out of the way in the long summer holidays.’<br />‘That’s dreadful.’ Phillip looked shocked. ‘What is it with the Brits and sending their kids away?’<br />‘I don’t know.’<br />‘I bet you went to boarding school as well?’<br />‘Yes. When I was twelve. That was the excuse dad gave for stopping me coming down here. He said that if I was going to be away most of the year then it was only right that I should be home in the holidays. He said that mum would miss me too much if I was away all summer as well.’<br />‘Sounds fair enough.’<br />‘It would be if you didn’t know dad. Poor mum I don’t think he’s ever given her a second thought. Don’t get me wrong I love them both, of course I do. But I’ve learnt a lot about my father’s true nature over the years. And since Rowena died I’ve had my head taken out of the sand.’<br />‘How does he feel about you coming back here to live?’<br />‘He doesn’t know yet.’ Imogen lowered her head.<br />‘But you’re going to tell him?’<br />‘Oh I wish it was that simple.’<br />‘It is surely. You just write him a letter telling him you’ve moved to Cornwall for a while. How did you tell your husband?’<br />‘How did you know I was married?’ Imogen was a little indignant. How did he manage to know things before she’d even opened her mouth?<br /> He nodded towards her left hand, which was holding the handlebars, and still bore her rings.<br />‘Oh, yes, bit if a give away. The fact is I haven’t told him either. All I said was that I was going away for a while.’<br />‘Umm.’<br />She was glad when they turned into the farm lane. This talking business was not all it was cracked up to be. He was making her feel guilt, which she really didn’t want. And who was he anyway? She certainly shouldn’t be telling him so much when she didn’t even know his surname.<br />‘Well. Here we are.’ She said rather crisply. ‘I had better get Boris back home.’ She left him standing at the farm gate and started to turn for home.<br />‘I have the day off tomorrow. I was thinking of taking a picnic down to the beach. D’ya fancy joining me?’<br />No, she told herself, it would be better to stop this now. She was going to end up pouring her heart out to this boy and his smile. He had already made her tell him much more than she intended.<br />‘That would be lovely, thank you.’ What! That was not what you were supposed to say.<br />‘Meet you here about eleven then?’<br />‘Ok.’ Oh he was infuriating. But she walked back up to Mulberry cottage with a huge grin on her face.<br /><br />‘So where’s the lovely Imogen? I was looking forward to one of her slap up meals.’ Kelvin Colasanto was sitting opposite James in the very exclusive French restaurant.<br />‘She has very bad flu. She was so disappointed not to be able to have you at home. But I told her she was to stay in bed, she really isn’t well.’ He gave a smile that he hoped would say ‘aren’t I a good husband, see how well I look after my wife.’<br />‘Poor thing. Maybe I should pop over in the morning and say hello? I really got on with her when we were here before. Do you think she’d be up to that James?’ Mandy Colasanto was sitting next to James and blowing smoke all over him.<br />‘I’m sorry Mandy but I’ve arranged a doctor’s appointment for her in the morning. I think that will take enough out of her to be honest. It was a lovely thought though, thank you.’<br />‘Oh honey you’re more than welcome. It’s such a shame though I was so looking forward to taking her shopping. The girls are great but I just know Imogen knows all those little shops that no one tells the tourists about.’<br />James smiled weakly. He was hoping they would just accept the flu line and leave it at that. Now it seemed the bimbo suddenly wanted to become Imogen’s new best friend. And talking about her made him think about her.<br />The meal passed excruciatingly slowly. No one seemed to want to drop the subject of Imogen and her health. James had to work hard trying to remember all the details of his smoke screen. He had no idea she was so popular and he started to wonder if his stunning business deals had not been clinched by his intelligence and cunning, but by Imogen’s sticky toffee pudding. He eventually prised the limpet like Mandy off the idea of a visit by telling her that this particular flu was very nasty indeed and highly contagious.<br />By the time he got home he was shattered and in desperate need of a drink. He had turned down all offer of alcohol during the evening in an attempt to seem trustworthy and in control. The house was so dark and unwelcoming. He was used to coming home to lights and warmth and tidiness. Now he was coming home to dark and mess, if not actual filth. Olwen had finally co-operated and found him the number of a cleaner but he hadn’t gotten round to calling it yet. When he had asked Olwen to arrange it all for him she had put the phone down on him again. She kept doing that; he really must have a word to Jonathan. He picked up the post as he walked through the door and dumped it with the gathering pile on the hall table. The answer phone light was flashing and with a sigh he pressed the play button. It would be Henry, it was always Henry. Before he would have rolled his eyes and made some pithy comment to Imogen, who would have smiled and nodded. Now Henry’s endless badgering infuriated him and it was all he could do to stop himself pulling the machine of the table and hurling it through a window. Whisky, he needed whisky. He prowled through to the study and picked up the bottle, empty. Bloody hell. He through the bottle instead of the answer machine and, when it hit the wall, wished it was Henry’s head.<br /><br />The next morning Imogen was washed, dressed and ready before nine. She looked at the clock, only two hours to kill before eleven. She thought about breakfast but her stomach was churning so much that she made herself think about something else. The trouble was that the something else she chose to think about made it worse. Boris sat on the kitchen table watching her pacing about. He half closed his eyes as if he was going off to sleep.<br />‘What?’ she said to him.<br />Boris blinked.<br />‘I know, I know. There is absolutely no reason why I should be nervous. I mean I’m old enough to know better.’ But it didn’t stop her pacing. Eventually she made herself a cup of tea and took it out into the garden. She had been there three weeks now and the silence still took her by surprise. She took her tea over to the Mulberry tree and lent against its old, rough trunk.<br />‘He’s very hansom.’ Imogen sat up at the sound of Rowena’s voice. ‘It’s alright darling I’m not really talking to you, you only think I am.’<br />‘Oh.’ Was it all right to be hearing voices?<br />‘So where is he taking you?’<br />‘I don’t know. The beach I think.’ And was it all right to be answering?<br />‘And you don’t think you should really be going do you?’<br />‘No.’<br />‘You’re feeling guilty because you’re married and you husband doesn’t know where you are. But you’re a young woman. If I taught you nothing else I hope I taught you that you have the right to be happy. And the best time to be happy is when you’re young. How much harm has leaving James done?’<br />‘Very little I should think.’<br />‘And do you think he is sitting at home worrying about what you are doing?’<br />‘No.’<br />‘Then go. Have a fantastic time and be what you are, a young woman with a whole life ahead of her.’<br />‘But I’m married.’<br />‘Are you? Really? Did you marry James because you loved him? Did he marry you because he loved you?’<br />‘I thought it was the right thing to do.’<br />‘That’s not what I asked. Did you love each other?’<br />‘No. Oh Row I was so sure I could make him love me. And it made dad so happy.’ Imogen sighed.<br />‘Bloody hell. Gin listen to yourself. You wanted to make James love you; you wanted to make Henry happy. All very laudable, but what about you? What about James loving you and Henry making you happy? Come to think about it Gin when was the last time you were happy, properly happy?’<br />‘I don’t know…a long time ago.’ Imogen frowned.<br />‘Maybe the summer before your twelfth birthday?’<br />‘Probably.’<br />‘So think about it. And think about yourself for a change. Are you planning to have sex with this boy?’<br />‘No!’ Imogen blushed<br />‘In which case I don’t see the problem. Finding someone attractive is not a crime. Good God do you think James has never looked at a pretty girl and wondered what she might be like in bed?’<br />‘James has never been unfaithful!’<br />‘How do you know?’<br />‘Because….’<br />‘Oh Gin my daring girl. I’m not saying he was or is. What I’m saying is that marriage means different things to different people. You’re a good girl and you always want to see the best in people. If this boy makes you smile, makes you laugh, then what’s the harm in spending some time with him?’<br />‘Hello?’<br />The sound of Phillips voice made Imogen jump and scrabble to her feet.<br />‘Are you ok? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’<br />‘No, not really. No I’m fine.’ Oh God. She hoped he hadn’t heard her, he’d think she was nuts.<br />‘Are you ready?’<br />‘Yes.’ Imogen looked back at the Mulberry tree. ‘Yes I’m ready.’<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Chapter Ten.<br /><br />On the short ride to the beach Imogen was silent. Everything Rowena said was true. She was young and had no intention of being anything other than friends with Philip, but there was still a nagging at the back of her mind. She wasn’t being unfaithful, no more than James was when he took female clients out for dinner. But something she said wouldn’t leave her. How did she know what James got up to on all those business trips? In her naivety it had never occurred to her that he might be sleeping with any of those women he had brought home for her to cook for. What a bloody idiot she had been, or had she? She would probably never know now.<br />‘What’s wrong?’ Philip hadn’t taken his eyes off the road but he could see.<br />Imogen didn’t know what to say, so she stayed silent.<br />‘You can tell me to shut up if you like.’<br />‘No! Sorry. It’s nothing really. Something occurred to me, but there’s nothing I can do about it.’<br />‘We can call this off if you want.’<br />‘No I don’t want. Anyway we’re here now.’ She put on her best smile but she had the feeling it wouldn’t be fooling Philip like it did most people.<br />The little cove that sat at the bottom of the lane behind the farm and the cottage was one of the best-kept secrets of the area. All the locals knew about it but if the holidaymakers asked where the nearest beach was they were sent in the opposite direction. As a result you often had the place to yourself. And today the little beach was deserted.<br />‘This is just beautiful.’ Philip gazed around him at the rugged; wind bashed rocks and endless, endless sea.<br />‘Isn’t it? We used to come down here all the time, almost every day in the summer. Some mornings Rowena would get me up really early and we would have breakfast down here.’<br />‘Fantastic. We have great beaches near us but they get so chocked up with surfers and tourists that the locals tend to stay away.’<br />‘It can get like that round here to in summer. That’s why this place is so precious. I expect someone will find it some time and spoil it like they always do, but let’s hope not.’<br />‘Not today anyway.’ Philip smiled at her and she couldn’t help smiling back.<br /><br />James thanked God it was Sunday. It was eleven thirty and he was still sprawled across the huge bed. There was a pungent odour that told him he really should change the sheets. He turned the pillow over and screwed his eyes tight shut in an attempt to go back to sleep. There were things he should be doing, papers to sort out for tomorrow and phone calls to make. He also needed to do some shopping. For three and a half weeks he had been living on take away and what in the cupboards and freezer could be heated up in the microwave. He hated ready meals and so Imogen always cooked from scratch. Great when she was here, but James had no idea what to do with most of the things he found and he was getting fed up with fried rice and curry. He thought about calling Olwen and asking when she was next going to the supermarket, but she kept putting the phone down on him. It made sense to him that she could get his shopping along with her own, but he was starting to suspect that he had upset her somehow. Maybe it was worth a try. He certainly couldn’t do it himself. He stretched out for the phone by the bed and dialled.<br />‘Hello?’ It was Jonathan who answered the phone.<br />‘Oh Jonathan, it’s James.’<br />‘I know. How are you?’<br />‘Oh fine, fine. I was just wondering if Olwen was planning on doing any shopping today?’<br />‘I expect so. She mentioned something this morning about washing powder. Why?’<br />Washing powder. James hadn’t given things like that a thought.<br />‘Do you think she could pick a few bits up for me while she’s there?’<br />‘Umm…’ Jonathan was silent for a moment. ‘Hold on a sec James.’<br />James could hear their voices in the background but couldn’t make out what they were saying.<br />‘James.’ Jonathan came back on the line. ‘She says no. But if you meet her there she’ll give you a hand.’<br />‘Oh…um…Oh. Well I suppose so. Where is it?’<br />‘Waitrose.’<br />‘Yes I know its name, but how do I get there?’<br /><br /><br />Imogen leant her back against the warm rock and closed her eyes. It was the smell that she was searching for. The smell of salt water, seaweed and sand that would take her back to a different self. For years she had avoided the coasts and tried very hard to get out of seaside trips for fear that she would catch that smell. Now she wanted it back very badly. A small puff of wind covered her in it and she bathed and wallowed. She was eleven years old again, running and screaming through the surf with Rowena chasing and waving a silky green/brown length of seaweed. For a moment she was desperate to be that little girl again, no boarding school, no disappointment in her fathers eyes, no rows and no James.<br />Something wet against her bare shins made her jump. She snapped her eyes open and saw a figure standing over her waving a huge clump of seaweed. Phillip was laughing and swishing the weed so that it caught against her skin. Without thinking she jumped up and tried to grab it away from him. He was too quick, turned on his heels and ran towards the water. Imogen gave chase but he was too fast. He stood, ankle deep in the sea waiting for her to catch up. When she got to arms length he threw the weed so that it landed across her shoulders.<br />‘Oh! You sod!’ She grabbed the seaweed away from her and threw it back into the sea. ‘Now I’m going to reek for the rest of the day.’<br />‘Not it you take a bath.’<br />‘I’m not going home yet.’<br />‘You don’t need to go home. We’ve got all this water right here.’<br />‘But I haven’t got a swimsuit.’<br />‘Who need one?’<br />‘What are you suggesting?’ She tried hard to sound shocked.<br />‘Nothing. Just take your sandals off. Your clothes will dry while we have lunch.’<br />Imogen couldn’t help feeling a pang of disappointment, but skinny-dipping was not something you did with a man you were only planning to be friends with. And you are not going to let this get out of hand, she told herself. She was standing on the sand wondering if sitting around in soggy clothes was really an appealing idea when Phillip dived headlong, fully clothed, into the sea.<br />‘Shit!’ Phillip exclaimed. ‘It’s bloody freezing.’<br />Imogen stood helpless with laughter while Phillip splashed and spluttered his way back to shore.<br />‘Bloody hell!’<br />‘You’re in England now remember, not Australia.’<br />He stood and shook, spraying water like a wet Labrador.<br />‘Do you have a towel in the car?’ She was recovering her composure and starting to feel sorry for him.<br />‘In the boot I think.’<br />They sat with their backs against the warm rocks, Phillip wrapped in a rather scruffy old towel.<br />‘Any better?’ she asked.<br />‘Warming back up now thanks. God that was cold. Now I know why all British surfers wear wetsuits.’<br />‘Have some tea.’ Imogen poured them both a mug from the flask. ‘Tea solves almost anything.’<br />‘So I’m finding out. But will it solve things for you?’<br />‘Oh very clever. How do you always manage to bring things back to me and my problems? Don’t you have any of your own?’<br />‘No not really. Well not in this country anyway. So back to you. What’s occurred to you that made you so quiet this morning?’<br /><br />Olwen waved at James from across the car park. Blimey he was looking rough. She wondered if he had herd anything from Imogen.<br />‘Hi. So you found it then?’ As she spoke she looked him up and down. Well it was a long time since anything he wore had seen an iron that was for sure, and perhaps a burglar had stolen his razor and hairbrush.<br />‘Yes thank you. Look, Olwen, wouldn’t it be better if I just tell you what I need and you drop it off on your way home?’<br />‘Do you have a shopping list?’ Olwen folded her arms.<br />‘Uhrr…no.’ James frowned.<br />‘Well can you write one out for me? I’ll need to know what brands you prefer and what sizes you usually have.’ She knew very well that James had no idea what she was talking about and she smiled rather sadistically as he stood there looking blankly. But it really wasn’t fair to tease him. After all Jonathan had been as bad when they first married. And it wasn’t entirely their fault. Their mother had done everything for them, and still would be if she had still been alive.<br />‘I tell you what we’ll do. You grab yourself a trolley and follow me round. We’ll see if anything looks familiar to you.’ The look on his face said it all.<br />With hopeless resignation James went with Olwen to the trolleys. He watched carefully as she manoeuvred one out and swung it round.<br />‘Your turn.’<br />‘Can’t I have that one?’ Olwen rolled her eyes and pushed it towards him.<br />Entering the supermarket James was struck first of all by the noise. It was a strange mix that took his ears a few seconds to decipher. There were a myriad of voices in every tone and pitch, tuneless music and a hummy, buzzing that he guessed must be the florescent lights and the vast banks of fridges and freezers. The light was mesmerising, hypnotic, and designed to make everything look enticing. Looking down at his hand he noticed that his skin was pinker and far healthier looking than it had been for weeks.<br />Olwen turned and saw him still standing in the entrance. There was something very childlike about him, this usually powerful and successful man who could make a conference room full of hard nosed businessmen eat out of his hand, looking so lost. He had been dragged out of his element. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. For weeks he had been pestering her and badgering her to do things for him, now she could start to understand why. Oh he was arrogant, of that there was no doubt, but he was also scared to death by what was happening. Look at him standing there, a rabbit trapped in the headlights just waiting to be run over, he didn’t know which way to turn. She sighed and went over to him.<br />‘Shall we make a start?’ She laid her hand on his arm. ‘Do you know what you need?’<br />‘Not really.’ His voice was almost a whisper. He was letting himself down in front of his sister-in-law and he didn’t know what to do about it. He wanted to deify her, to march off with his trolley and show her that he didn’t need her help. But he did. It wasn’t that unusual surely? Looking around it was mostly women after all, most men of his age would probably struggle if they had to do the shopping. He tried to imagine Henry pushing a trolley. He realised that Henry would be even more clueless than he was. Feeling a little better he started to think.<br />‘Milk.’ he said. ‘I definatly need milk.’<br /><br />Imogen sat wondering how she was going to explain to Philip about her imaginary conversation with Rowena. He’ll think your nuts, which you may well be. And it might give him the wrong idea. But he was sitting there looking at her, wanting her to talk to him. And she wanted to talk to him. She’d been annoyed at his directness before and taken aback by his openness. To him it was obvious that if you had a problem then you talked about it. The last time she had talked to anyone about how she truly, deeply felt it was with Rowena just before she got married. Rowena was the only person she had ever been able to talk to. She loved Cherith very much but she knew that her mother was compromised by a presence that hung over them both. After her marriage her own conversations became similarly compromised. Even with Rowena she had started to feel herself holding back. Of course Rowena would always take sides and hold an opinion, which often made things worse. But Philip had no reason to take sides or hold any opinions. Maybe she could talk to him. After all he would be going back to Australia at the end of the summer, taking away any secrets she might tell him. Ok then, she thought, here goes.<br />‘I was thinking about today, meeting you and coming here. And I felt a bit uncomfortable, you know, being married.’<br />‘I thought you’d left him?’<br />‘Well yes I think so. But it’s only been three and a half weeks, and I did take it seriously, being married. I would never have met a man without James knowing, and certainly not a man he didn’t know. I felt guilty. Anyway it started me thinking about all the women James must meet all the time. I’ve met some of them; he brings them home for dinner parties. But there must be dozens that I never even get told about. And while I was thinking this it struck me that he could have been having affairs all over the place and I would never know. He goes away a lot you see.’<br />‘Is he the sort who would?’<br />Imogen sighed. ‘Yes. I think he might be.’<br />‘So you didn’t leave because he’d been unfaithful?’<br />‘No.’<br />‘If you don’t mind me asking. Why did you leave?’<br />It was not a question Imogen had been expecting. She didn’t know how to put it into words.<br />‘Being left the cottage and the money made the decision easier, but I think I would have gone at some time. Rowena was quite right, we should never have married. She tried to tell me. I should have listened.’<br />‘But you were in love.’<br />‘No I wasn’t. I was scared.’ Imogen lowered her head and put her hands in her lap.<br />‘Scared of what?’<br />‘Of everything. But I was also a little afraid of James. He’s much older than me you see. He’s dad’s number two, well he was, I think he pretty much runs things now. He and dad are very close. Dad used to bring him home a lot and I quite liked him. One day Dad said that James wanted to take me out. I went because I thought I should. And it was quite nice. He behaved very well and paid for everything. He was the perfect gentleman. Flowers started arriving at the house, I was flattered. Mind you I had nothing to compare it to. Dad was happiest about it all, mum said as little as possible. This went on for about six months and then he proposed.’<br />‘So he loved you?’ Philip sounded hopeful.<br />‘I thought so at the time. I naively assumed that you only asked someone to marry you if you loved them. I didn‘t know how to say no. And by then I’d convinced myself that I might be able to fall in love with him. Everyone was so happy, except Rowena. I got swept up in it all and it was nice, all the attention.’<br />‘So what went wrong?’<br />‘I don’t think anything did ‘go wrong’. Not in the way most people think. There were no rows or shouting, no throwing things. It was little things. Like when I moved in. We came back from honeymoon and I moved into his house. It’s a lovely house, but very much his. Everything in it he had chosen. I thought that when it became my home too that we would redecorate, buy some new furniture or something. But he didn’t offer and I didn’t like to ask. So I suppose it never really became my home in the way it should. In fact when I left I managed to pack everything that actually belonged to me into the back of the car.’<br />‘Wow.’<br />‘I know. Not much to show for six years of marriage. Not that I can blame him completely. He’s not that unreasonable. I suppose he would have made some changes if I’d pushed for them. But he liked things the way they were.’<br />‘A bit of a control freak?’<br />‘I don‘t know. Although he did sometimes buy my clothes, especially for big, corporate occasions. And he always ordered for both of us in restaurants.’<br />‘Sounds like a control freak to me. I couldn’t imagine doing that to anyone. Did he ever ask for your opinion?’ Philip was kicking at the sand, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice.<br />Imogen thought for a moment. ‘Actually no. But, and this is going to sound so lame, It never occurred to me to give one. At least he never shouted. I grew up with mum always saying yes to dad, even when he was obviously making a fool of them both. I was brought up to do the same. I guess I just carried that on into marriage.’<br />‘So what changed?’<br />‘I suppose I did. To understand properly you really should have met Rowena. Every one said I was more like her than dad. She had real passion, a fire for life. I had that as a child but I also had mum’s quiet, passive streak, and I guess that came to dominate after I stopped seeing Row regularly.’<br />‘Tell me about her.’ Philip could see the pain in Imogen’s eyes building as she was talking. It wasn’t fair to push her. If she wanted to tell him then she would. Every time she mentioned Rowena her face lit up. She needed to get it all out. But it didn’t need to be all at once. And anyway he was curious about this famous aunt.<br />‘Oh she was wonderful.’ Imogen beamed. ‘People sometimes call someone a force of nature, but she really was. She was like no one else I had ever met, or met since come to that. There are photos back at the cottage; I’ll sow you when we get back.’<br />‘I’d like that.’<br /><br />As they pushed their trolleys around Waitrose Olwen studied James for clues. He wasn’t putting much in the trolley, mostly ready meals for one that could go in the freezer and then the microwave. No tea bags either, he never drank tea and Imogen rarely drank coffee. This did not bode well. She was going to have to say something. Jonathan had told her not to, but when did she ever do what he told her?<br />‘What about tea bags? Won’t Imogen want tea bags?’<br />‘Um… I suppose so.’ His hand hovered. What was the colour of the box, red, green? ‘I’m not sure. Maybe she’ll get herself some.’<br />‘So she is coming home then?’<br />‘I expect so, sometime.’<br />‘James I know I’ve asked before but I’m going to ask again. Has Imogen left you?’<br />James hung his head. He was too tired and too confused to fight. Why was he still trying to pretend anyway, everyone must have guessed by now.<br />‘Yes.’ he said with a sigh. ‘Yes I think she has.’<br />‘I’m sorry. Shall we call it a day and go find a pub?’<br />‘Sounds like a bloody good idea.’<br /><br />Sunday lunchtime was not the best time to be in a London pub. They ordered drinks and took them out to the gardens. There were a few families and a couple of yappy dogs, but they found themselves a quiet spot in a corner. To an outsider they must look like a couple settling down for a cosy chat away from the crowds, Olwen thought as she sat down opposite James on a ridiculously narrow bench.<br />‘So then. What happened?’ She shifted about, trying to get both cheeks on the bench.<br />‘I honestly don’t know. I flew to New York and everything was normal. I got back and she had gone. I didn’t even notice at first. I mean I knew she was not in the house obviously, but everything looked just the same, nothing missing, nothing out of place. Eventually I found the letter she had left. It said she had been unhappy for a long time and that she was going away.’<br />‘Did you know she was unhappy?’<br />‘I knew she was upset by Rowena’s death. Apart from that everything seemed fine. She never said anything about being unhappy.’<br />‘And you didn’t notice?’ Olwen tapped her fingers on the table and narrowed her eyes.<br />‘What was to notice? She seemed exactly the same to me. Did you notice anything?’<br />‘She seemed quieter and quieter, more thoughtful. And she’d lost weight, you must have noticed that?’<br />‘No.’ James said matter of factly.<br />‘So you came home each night and as long as your food was cooked, you had a clean shirt for the morning and a blow job then everything was fine was it?’ Olwen took a sip of her drink to stop herself saying anything else.<br /> James looked down into his beer not knowing what to say. That was bloody rude and he wanted to get up and leave, but that would cause a scene.<br />‘What are you saying? What are you accusing me of?’<br />‘I’m not accusing you of anything…Actually yes I am. You lived with Imogen for six years and yet when she became unhappy and started to think about leaving you didn’t notice. What does that say about you James?’<br />‘It says I’m a busy man who has a lot to think about and doesn’t have time for silly games. If she was that unhappy why didn’t she tell me?’<br />‘She shouldn’t have had to. Good God James have you ever though about anyone but yourself?’ Olwen tried hard not to raise her voice.<br />‘Of course I have. I made sure she had everything she wanted.’ James was indignant.<br />‘You mean you gave her a gold credit card and a gardener.’<br />‘What’s wrong with that? I thought that’s what all women want.’<br />‘There’s nothing wrong with those things but they’re no good on their own. Didn’t you love her to?’ She shouldn’t have to ask.<br /> For a moment he was silenced. He frowned and thought about it. They got on well, she seemed happy with his arrangements and sex was fine.<br />‘And you wonder why she might have been unhappy?’ Olwen slumped back in frustration. He was impossible. ‘Did she love you? Did you ever bother to find out?’<br />‘I don’t have to sit here and listen to this.’ How dare she, who did she think she was anyway?<br />‘Sitting there and listening is exactly what you should be doing. I don’t want to fight with you James. But you are the most impossible man to talk to. I’ll admit that to the outside world you did look like a happily married couple. But if I could see things then why couldn’t you? Maybe because you never loved her, in which case why did you marry her? Make me understand James; convince me not to take Imogen’s side against you. Defend yourself.’<br />‘And why should I defend myself? I can’t see that I’ve done anything wrong. If anyone needs to understand what’s going on it’s me.’ He shifted around on the bench and refused to meet Olwen‘s eyes. Something she said about love had stuck. Love had never come into it before. It was a marriage of convenience, he thought Imogen knew that.<br />‘Are you trying to tell me that Imogen loved me?’<br />‘I don’t know. But you should have known. That’s my point. If you didn’t care enough to think about how she was feeling. If you didn’t love her then you can’t wonder at her leaving, can you?’<br />‘All this touchy feely rubbish, all this lovey dovey stuff, it’s so… so transatlantic. How many people honestly marry for love? I mean there’s usually something else going on, a tax break or something.’ He snapped.<br />‘I think you’ll find that most people marry primarily for love. Anything else is just a bonus. There may have been a time, fifty years ago, when people married out of duty or for business, but those days are long gone.’<br />‘Are they? Are you sure? I can think of several couples I’ve dealt with who have done exactly that. I was with one such only the other night. The Colasanto’s from New York. He works for the firm over there we do most U.S business with. One evening we were talking and I asked him why he chose Mandy. He said he didn’t, he chose her fathers’ money, and she chose his families respectability and powerful name. They didn’t love each other but they both got what they wanted. And there are others. It happens all the time. It was the same with us. Henry wanted me to be director and I wanted that to, very much. I’d worked my backside off for him for years. It was what I deserved. He told me he would like me to take over when he retired, but he didn’t want the company to go out of the family. He started taking me home to meet Cherith and Imogen. She was a bright girl but we both knew that she would never be able to take over the business. It was, not very subtlety, implied that in order for me to take over and for the company to stay in the family then Imogen and I should marry. And she needed looking after; she’s not the strongest person is she? She would never have been able to have the lifestyle she had grown up with without marrying someone like me. And whenever we talked she never expressed any interest in any carear, she seemed to want what was on offer. So I thought we were both getting what we wanted. And it seemed to work very well.’<br />Olwen was not quite sure she was hearing what she was hearing. Could anyone really be so cold, so calculating? James was a lot of thing she didn’t like but she didn’t think even he could be that ruthless.<br />‘Are you saying that your marriage was just another of your and Henry’s business deals? In which case all I can say is that it was a good job she got out when she did.’ She tensed.<br />‘You shouldn’t make judgments Olwen. Is your marriage perfect? Is any ones?’ James’ eyes blazed at her, challenging.<br />‘Not perfect no. I’ve never pretended it is. But we do love each other. I would do anything for Jonathan and he would do anything for me. And we would both die for the children. We obviously live in very different worlds because I don’t know anyone who married to get their hands on their father-in-laws business.’ Remember you’re in a public place, she told herself.<br />They sat in silence sipping at their drinks. Looking around James could see everywhere what Olwen was talking about. Just to one side of them was a couple who must have been mid thirties, there were two small children and a Labrador puppy. The husband was busy wiping chocolate sauce from the little girls face and hands; the wife was trying to stop the little boy teasing the puppy with his straw. They were not looking at each other but were somehow in perfect harmony, united in the care of their children. The wife looked up and without a word the husband threw her the wet wipes, she hadn’t said a word but he knew just what she wanted. And over there, by the pond, a retired couple sitting side by side gently leaning against each other, not speaking and not needing to. He knew that however hard he tried he could never imagine he and Imogen being like either couple. And it had never been something he had wanted. He had tried love once, many years ago and the result had been devastating. Her name was Lizzie and they were at university together. He had thought about it all then, the big wedding, the kids, and the happy retirement. He would have done it all with Lizzie. Except it was the last thing she had wanted and as soon as he broached the subject she ran a mile, quite literally, and disappeared off to Canada.<br />‘Do you even know where she is?’ It occurred to Olwen that over the last three and a half weeks all James had said was that Imogen had gone away.<br />‘Umm…She didn’t say.’<br />‘And have you tried to find out?’<br />‘I called Henry and a couple of friends I knew of.’<br />‘And then what?’<br />‘And then nothing. I’m not her keeper. She chose not to tell me where she was going. I haven’t got time to run around tracking her down.’ He blinked hard and looked into his glass.<br />‘Good God! Do you actually care where she’s gone? She could be anywhere, and what if something’s happened to her? You said before that you had checked the hospitals, I take it that was a lie?’<br />‘If something bad had happened I would have heard by now. Olwen, I’m sorry, but this really is none of your business and I’m a little sick of your attitude.’ And very sick of being made to feel like such a shit. What gave her the right to make judgments on him?<br />‘Fine, James, fine. Have it your way. But the next time you need your arse wiping don’t call me.’ Olwen picked up her handbag and left him to his beer. What was it going to take to wake him up? Good on you Imogen, I hope you find yourself a nice young man and shag him senseless.<br /><br />‘This is one of my favourites of her.’ Imogen handed Philip a silver frame with a photo of Rowena astride her motorbike. ‘She was sixty then can you believe.’<br />‘She was very beautiful.’ Philip took the photo.<br />‘Yes she was. She took my breath away the first time I saw her. She came to meet me off the train. Dad wouldn’t allow a photo of her in the house so I had no idea what she looked like. I got off the train and there was this tall, elegant, wonderful looking woman in a purple caftan. Her blonde hair blowing all over the place. She was waving like mad and I kept looking behind me to see who she was waving at. When I got close enough she came running up and gave me a huge hug. “Hello Gin, I’m your aunt Rowena”. No one had ever given me a nickname before. I fell in love with her on the spot.’<br />‘You’re a lot like her.’ Philip said looking up from the photo.<br />‘I wish I was. She had something about her that made everyone she met like her. She could get even the most stubborn builder to do exactly what she wanted. She never had to ask for anything, people just did things for her. And I was one of them; I would probably have jumped off a cliff if she asked me to.’<br />‘Did she ever marry?’<br />‘No. Not for want of offers though. She had more boyfriends before she was thirty than most women have their whole lives. Then she moved down here. She said it was partly to get away from the pressure she was under to marry. Her parents, my grandparents I suppose, wanted to marry her off to some rich young heir to something or other, an estate in Hampshire I think it was. He was the last in a long line and I think she got sick of it, and they were getting sick of her saying no to them all. Yes I wish I had been more like her.’<br />‘What did she do, I mean for a living?’<br />‘I honestly don’t know. There was family money and she had a lot of shares in the company that gave her some income. She was very well educated though. She was lucky.’<br />‘How do you mean?’<br />‘Well her parents’ generation tended to send their boys to proper schools and their girls to finishing schools. My grandparents didn’t feel like that. They indulged her desire for education. And she managed to get the head master of Henry’s school to let her use his library.’<br />‘This can be a strange country.’ Philip put the photo back on the table. He looked around the room, ‘so is all this stuff hers?’<br />‘All of it, pretty much.’<br />‘And where are you?’<br />‘Well, like I said, I don’t own much. I accumulated a few odds and sods but nothing to speak of. That’s mine.’ Imogen pointed at a beautifully embroidered cushion. ‘It was a birthday present.’<br />‘From Rowena?’<br />‘Yes. She always managed to find presents and match them perfectly to the receiver. Now that is something I inherited from her. Anyway what about you? So far all you’ve told me is that you’re from Australia and that you’re here for the summer. Tell me about you.’<br />‘Ok but there’s not much to tell. I was born in Australia but my father was English so we lived here for a while. We moved back to Oz when I was five. That was when dad died. There was an accident; he hit another car head on. Mum didn’t want to stay here without him. I don’t remember much about living here so as soon as I could I wanted to come back and have a look around. I’ve been in England since last October. I went home for Christmas. I started off in London, as we all do I suppose. Moved on from one city to the next doing odd bits of work here and there. Then I saw this add for a summer job on a farm in Cornwall. I thought a few weeks in the country would be good, and I’ve heard a lot about the surfing down here. So there you go, that’s me.’<br />All the time he was talking Imogen was watching him, it was hard not to. She was trying to work out what it was that drew her. He was sexy for sure, with his blue eyes and slightly too tight t-shirt, but there was something more. There was something less obvious. He listened to her. He made her laugh. He took her seriously. He was interested.<br />‘I’m sorry about you father.’ She said at last.<br />‘It was a long time ago now. I think it took mum a long time to get over it though. I’m sorry about Rowena. I would have loved to have met her’<br />‘Thank you. She would’ve liked you. She was a dreadful flirt all her life. She was always telling me in her letters about new men that came her way. I think that was one reason why she didn’t marry, she couldn’t decide, she liked them all! I never asked her how many lovers there had been but I hear there were more men than women at the funeral.’<br />‘You didn’t go?’<br />‘No.’ Imogen’s face lost its smile and Philip winced. ‘She asked me not to. There was a letter that came just after she died. It was from her via her solicitor. She asked me not to go to the funeral. She said she had a good reason for asking and not to be too upset. It’s complicated but it was to do with the will and wanting to keep leaving this place to me a secret from dad.’<br />Philip nodded, families could be funny things. To Philip it seemed bizarre that a brother and sister could hate each other that much, but then he was an only child. Every family plays games with each other, that he did know, and it seemed Imogen had been stuck in the middle. He wondered if she knew how much she had been used.<br /><br />‘I saw that young Australian boy again this morning, in the shop. He was buying things for a picnic, and he was buying enough for two. I wonder who he was taking?’ Eleanor handed Molly her tea.<br />‘Oh I do hope it was Ginny. Do you think it might have been?’ Molly clapped her hands together.<br />‘The way she blushed the other day when he was mentioned I wouldn’t be surprised if there wasn’t something going on.’<br />‘Not that it’s really right, a married woman going out with a young, single man without her husband’s knowledge.’ Molly bit her lip and put her hands back in her lap.<br />‘Oh Molly you are priceless sometimes. We are in the twenty first century now, not the nineteen forties. And out Gin is not exactly a loose woman is she? I don’t think she would do anything foolish. Mind you it might not be a bad thing if she did. I don’t imagine James was, is, the most romantic of men. It will do her good to have some good old-fashioned romance. He seems like a nice young man. Mrs Tragowen was telling me how hard working he is, and polite, not qualities you see too often in the youth of today. I think he’ll look after her. He had better anyway.’ Eleanor sniffed.<br />‘I do hope so. Poor child she’s been through so much recently.’ Molly sat back in her chair, soaking up the soft June sunshine. ‘She deserves some happiness.’<br /><br />James had hardy had time to unpack the shopping when the doorbell rang. Who the hell would that be on a Sunday afternoon? Maybe it was Olwen coming to apologise, well she better make it good. He padded across the hall, it was a woman’s outline he could see through the door glass. He smiled to himself; he was going to enjoy watching his sister-in-law begging his forgiveness. He yanked the door open and was stopped in his tracks.<br />‘James. Hi.’<br />‘Mandy! Um… Hello.’ On his doorstep stood Mandy Colsanto in her biggest earrings, highest heels and the shortest skirt he had seen since the eighties.<br />‘I hope you don’t mind. I keep thinking about poor Imogen and I couldn’t go home without knowing she’s ok. So I thought I’d drop by for a little visit.’ she pushed passed James and let herself into the hall. ‘Bedroom this way?’ she headed for the stairs.<br />‘No!’ James grabbed her arm. ‘I mean…’ Shit! What the hell was the stupid tart doing? He couldn’t let her up there, she would see immediately. She was staring at him and trying to wriggle from his grip.<br />‘I’m sorry Mandy but she’s not here.’ Come on James think. ‘She’s gone away for a few days. She was feeling better so I suggested she spend a few days with… with her aunt in Cornwall. She won’t be back until next weekend and it’s too far for a day trip I’m afraid. So it seems you’ve had a wasted journey.’ He had no idea what he was talking about or why he had said that about Cornwall, Rowena was dead for goodness sake. He watched Mandy carefully to see it she had bought his story. With relief she turned away from the stairs.<br />‘Well that is a shame. But aren’t you the sweetest thing to be so thoughtful?’ She came up close to him. ‘So you’re having to fend for yourself. You should have called me; I could have come and cooked you something. I make good fried chicken.’<br />‘That would have been nice Mandy, but I’m fine.’ She was so close he could smell the woman under the acrid perfume. He turned away slightly so as not to sneeze.<br />‘Well of course I can do more than cook.’ She put her hand out and pressed it against his chest. ‘A man like you all on his own must need things.’<br />Oh good God she was coming on to him. He took her hand and gently lowered it from his chest. It didn’t work. She pushed her, not completely real, breasts out so that they brushed against his shoulder. It would be so easy, he could take her upstairs right now, it might even be advantages. If she was ‘satisfied’ with him then it might help with future business. For a moment the feel of her so close, her breath on his neck he thought why not. Then he opened his eyes and saw her thick red lips and heavily massacred eyes. A picture of Imogen’s soft, make-up free face flittered across his mind and he took a polite step backwards.<br />‘That’s a very tempting offer Mandy, really. But what would Kelvin think?’<br />‘Oh fuck Kelvin, everyone else does. Even if he found out, which he won’t, he wouldn’t care.’ She started to come back up beside him, wriggling her hips in a way he had only ever seen hookers do. He took another step back.<br />‘Well I’m afraid I do care. I have too much respect for you both to spoil our friendship like that. And I couldn’t do it to Imogen, especially when she is convalescing.’<br />‘A gentleman. Trust me to pick the only fucking gentleman in this whole fucking city. Oh well you can’t blame a girl for trying.’ She shrugged and hitched her handbag back onto her shoulder. ‘Give Imogen my love, she’s a lucky girl.’<br />James let her out and, quickly, closed the door behind her. He went back into the kitchen shaking his head. He wasn’t obverse to shagging female clients, or a client’s wife, in the line of duty. But there were limits. And then there was all that other stuff. Why had he told Mandy that Imogen had gone to Cornwall? <br /> Of course, James you idiot, Cornwall, where else would Imogen go? He closed his eyes and threw his head back. Yes, yes. He smacked his hand against his forehead. Henry had been furious that he couldn’t find out who had been left the cottage and all the shares and money, and when he had come to the house to have a rant Imogen had been very quiet. In fact she had said very little about the whole Rowena situation, never putting forward any opinion. That was strange because they had been so close, but he put it down to grief. He had put a lot down to grief. Yes, Imogen had to be Rowena’s heir. He went into the study and rummaged through the post from the last few weeks, there was bound to be something there. He went through the overflowing waste paper basket and then the draws in the desk, nothing. She must have taken everything with her. The more he though about it the more he became convinced that Rowena had, indeed, left everything to Imogen and that she had gone down to Cornwall. He remembered seeing the map book under the bed. And a couple of times when she was on the phone when he came home and she closed the kitchen door, something she never usually did. They were all things that he had taken no notice of at the time. They were silly things. He poured himself a large whisky and thought. He had no proof that she was in Cornwall and probably no way of finding out about the will. He could try the solicitor but he knew Henry had been trying for weeks. He could get his own lawyer onto it, after all he might have a claim on the company shares, but that could take weeks. Henry obviously didn’t know anything, but Cherith might. James looked at his watch. Henry would have gone for his after lunch drink with his golfing pals by now. He called their number up on the phone menu and pressed dial.<br />‘Hello.’ Cherith answered.<br />‘Cherith, hello, it’s James.’<br />‘Oh James, hello. Henry isn’t here I’m afraid.’<br />‘That’s all right. It’s actually you I wanted to talk to. I wanted to ask you about Imogen.’<br />‘Oh.’<br /> She sounded nervous, which was promising.<br />‘Something’s occurred to me. I think she might have gone to Rowena’s.’<br />‘And what makes you think that?’ Cherith twisted the phone cord around in her fingers. She had been expecting one of them to put two and two together at some point, and she had been hoping it would be James rather than Henry. She took a couple of deep breaths. She should have spoken to Imogen in more detail about this. But she was sure James didn’t actually know anything, he was just fishing. James could be slippery though. Her hand trembled slightly on the receiver.<br />‘I just started thinking and it suddenly seemed so obvious. Has she been in touch at all?’ Gently does it, don’t spook her.<br />‘I’m sorry James no she hasn’t.’ Cherish crossed her fingers behind her back.<br />‘Oh. Well do you think it might be possible? It occurred to me that Imogen might have been Rowena’s heir?’<br />‘I’m afraid I don’t know any details of the will. As you know we were not told anything.’<br />‘No of course. But do you think she might have gone there anyway?’<br />‘I really couldn’t say. I’m sorry James but I’m going to have to go, I’m expecting some friends any minute.’<br />‘All right. Could you let me know if she gets in touch? I think I might follow up on Cornwall.’<br />‘You must do whatever you think best dear.’ and she hung up. She decided it might be a good idea to call Imogen and warn her.<br />James put the phone down and swore. That might have been a mistake. He poured another drink and sat. What now? He tapped his foot against the chair. The most obvious thing was to go down to Cornwall. But he wasn’t sure that would achieve anything. He could call, but she’d probably hang up. A letter then. Ok so write her a letter. Now he just had to decide what to say.<br /> Sitting hugging his whisky the day’s events started to flood over him. First there were Olwen’s remarks. Normally he didn’t care what other people thought of him, but today, it seemed to matter. Maybe it had always mattered. His mind went back to the last time he was at his brother’s house and how upset he had been by their implications that Imogen had left him. It was like he was starting to wake from a very long dream, suddenly starting to feel things he hadn’t felt for years, if at all. Imogen had made everything so easy for him. When she moved in she made no claims on his teritory. She fitted herself in to his routines, his foibles, she never complained when he brought people home unexpectedly or didn’t even come home, and she never asked questions. He thought about some of the things Olwen had said. He had married in order to get his hands on the company, that was true, he couldn’t deny it. And he couldn’t deny that she was beautiful and charming. He had been surprised when she agreed to go out with him. He suspected, knew really, that Henry was behind it all, but he was still flattered. The question he really needed to answer was that if he cared so little then why was her leaving bothering him so much? And then there was Mandy. A few weeks ago he would have just taken her upstairs and thought little of it, he would have used the spare room and changed the bottom sheet, but there would have been no guilt. Today when she came up close her smell, the overwhelming perfume, made him feel sick. And when he saw Imogen’s face he had to get Mandy out.<br /> Closing his eyes he saw Imogen again. Opening them quickly he could still see her, but this time it was from their wedding photo on the mantle. He got up and fetched it. On the way back to his chair he filled his glass. Well she was smiling. He looked closer and closer. Well there was a smile on her lips anyway. And what about him? Oh yes he was smiling; he’d hit the jackpot hadn’t he.<br />Think, James, think. Were there signs? The more he thought and the more he drank the more he saw into the last six years and saw things that had passed him at the time. On their wedding day for example. Imogen had asked for a favourite song and had come and asked him to dance, he had said no, he was busy talking, but now he couldn’t remember who to or what about, all he could see was the look on her face as she went back to their table. And the honeymoon, when he had spent almost the whole time on his mobile or laptop.<br />It was about three months after they got home that he was first ‘unfaithful’, if sleeping with the secretary of a rival in order to get some information on a deal could be called unfaithful. He couldn’t even remember her name the next day let alone now. He told himself at the time that Imogen would never find out and that it didn’t matter if she did, but he was pretty sure she did know. Now the thought that for years she was well aware that he was shagging other women and said nothing about it made him lurch into the kitchen and vomit into the sink. Guilt was new to him and he didn’t like it. He wanted it all to stop, he wanted to go to bed, pull the covers over his head and stay there until he felt himself again. But he couldn’t, he needed to think more, he needed to see and understand.<br />Back in his chair he started to recall other things. There was a party, something to do with the office. Imogen had bought a new dress. She was so pleased with it and twirled around the sitting room showing him. He didn’t like it and told her to take it back. Now he saw the look on her face and he screwed up his eyes. The next day he went out at lunchtime and bought her something he thought more suitable. She had worn it without complaint. After that he always went with her to buy outfits for company occasions. He was very glad he hadn’t told Olwen about that. Tellingly these clothes were the only things she had left behind. There was a need to control her, but she let him. <br />One thing after another rolled past his consciousness, until it became blindingly obvious that she had been miserable almost from the first day. He sank further and further into the chair until he was curled up like a child. He really wasn’t a nice person was he? He shook his head, no. And he hadn’t treated Imogen very well had he? He shook his head again, no. And that was stupid because he loved her didn’t he? He nodded his head, yes he did.<br /><br />It had got dark. The kind of darkness you only get in the country. Except it wasn’t dark. The stars were so bright. And the moon glowed like a torch, lighting up the whole garden. They had spent the whole afternoon talking about everything except what they both knew Imogen needed to talk about. Eventually Philip took the bull by the horns.<br />‘So why did you really leave?’<br />‘Blimey that was direct.’ They were sitting under the Mulberry tree both facing out towards the garden, their backs pressed against the knawled trunk. It was probably better that he couldn’t see her face, all day she had been blushing but now she turned very pale. She had to think about it all sooner or later, she had just hoped it could be later; she’d managed to change the subject earlier. But Philip was right; this was as good a time as any. She took a deep breath.<br />‘For six years I tried to make him love me and for six years I failed.’<br />‘That simple?’<br />‘…No. Probably not.’<br />‘So tell me.’<br />‘Rowena dieing made me wake up. It shouldn’t have been a shock, she had been ill for a long time, but it was. It made me feel again. The day I got married I switched off and I was on autopilot for six years. It was fine; there was nothing to complain about. Nice house, gold cards, gardener, big car, gym membership, the lot. To begin with I thought that was just what marriage was. It was when I got to know his brother Jonathan and his wife Olwen that I changed my mind. They have the kind of marriage you see in TV commercials. Two gorgeous kids, untidy house, and they adore each other. Things I’d never seen. I’d only been married six months and I realised that it was probably a mistake. But at the same time it wasn’t. He never hit me, rarely shouted, all though sometimes I wished he had, shouted I mean. There was just something. You know sometimes when you’re with someone and there’s a silence, and that silence is nice, it doesn’t need to be filled? With James those silences always needed filling. And they always felt like they were my fault, like I had done or said something that meant he couldn’t bear to talk to me. I would sit there racking my brains trying to think what I’d done or hadn’t done until I couldn’t bare it anymore and would start apologizing anyway. It would be the same when he came home in a bad mood, I would spend the whole evening walking on eggshells and then saying how sorry I was that he had had a bad day.’<br />‘You still do it you know, apologize for everything. This morning you apologized for the water being so cold.’<br />‘Did I?’<br />‘Yep. And you did it in the post office the other day when that man bumped into you.’<br />‘I think I’ve spent my whole life apologizing. One reason Rowena was so against my marrying James was that he was too much like dad. And I know that one reason I said yes was that getting married meant escape. And I didn’t think a husband would have as much hold over me as my father. To a point I was right, James was not as bad as dad. Anyway that’s what I kept telling myself. And there’s the old saying “better the devil you know”. When you’re a child you accept things more easily. Dad made all the decisions and mum went along with it all. If dad was in a bad mood mum would bend over backwards to soothe him and bring him out of it. Even the shopping list was written in dad’s favour, the tea he liked, a particular marmalade that meant a trip to a separate shop. He won’t let her have a dishwasher because he likes ‘proper’ china that isn’t dishwasher friendly. He always ordered for us when we went out to eat so I was used to it all already. There was a part of me that thought it was easier to stay and turn into mum because at least I knew what to expect. I so wanted to be like Rowena, to have her courage. To just up and leave like she did and make a new life. I thought she was amazing, dazzling. She used to say that I was more like her than I knew, I could never see it. I did feel different when I was down here though. It was like I was two different people, the London Imogen and the Cornish Ginny, and there was no in between. Rowena didn’t like the London me and dad didn’t like the Cornish me, what could I do? In the end the London me won because I stopped coming here, so Ginny died, or went to sleep. I saw the look on mums face, begging me not to upset dad, and I was old enough to know that if dad was cross it was mum who suffered.’<br />‘So what changed?’<br />‘When Rowena died I relised that death was a reality. I don’t remember my grandparents dying so Row was really my first experience of death. You think you’re going to live forever don’t you, when you’re young? Well maybe not if you loose someone like you did.’<br />‘No you’re right. I was too young to know what dad dying actually meant. I expect something will happen to bring me down to earth, but at the moment I think I probably will live forever, I’ll have a bloody good go anyway.’ They laughed.<br />‘Good for you.’<br />‘So Rowena’s death woke Ginny up?’<br />‘Yes… yes you could put it like that. Her getting sick made me realise that I wasn’t going to live forever and that if that was the case then was I happy for my life to be what it was? I thought about mum and then Row and asked whose kind of life I wanted to be leading for the rest of my own.’<br />‘Bit of a no brainer.’<br />‘In theory. You have to remember that I’d never done anything, never had a job, not even in the summer holidays. I went from someone’s daughter to someone’s wife, I’ve never been just plain me. It was terrifying to even think about, so I tried not to. But it stayed at the back of my mind somewhere and when she actually died it was like flicking a switch. I don’t know if I would have done anything as drastic as leaving if I hadn’t been left all this.’ she waved her arm around to indicate the cottage. ‘That did make the decision easy. A ‘no brainer‘ as you say. I knew I couldn’t come down here with James. I knew he’d make me sell it. Rowena knew that too I think, one of the reasons she kept the will such a secret. I don’t think she would mind me selling as long as it was my decision. I could never do that though. As soon as the solicitor told me that this place was mine I knew. Bit like a homing pigeon. It suddenly seemed so simple, so obvious. And it all fell into place. James had a trip to New York coming up so I took the opportunity. I should have stayed and talked to him, but, to be honest, the idea of talking to James was more terrifying than the thought of making such a big change.’<br />‘Do you think you will talk to him?’<br />‘Yes. Sooner or later I’ll have to; I owe him an explanation at least. The trouble is that when he asks me why I left I don’t know what I’m going to say.’<br />‘Tell him what you’ve just told me.’<br />‘But what have I just told you? All I’ve done is ramble on for an hour.’<br />‘No you haven’t. You’ve told me that you left James because he was selfish, arrogant, didn’t love you or appreciate you, he took you completely for granted, was a control freak and was probably being unfaithful.’<br />‘Gosh. Have I really just said all that?’<br />‘More or less.’ he turned and smiled at her. ‘I think you’re amazing. What you’ve done took a lot of courage. Rowena would’ve been proud.’<br />Imogen blushed. ‘Do you think so?’<br />‘Definatly. And I’m proud of you and you should be proud of yourself.’<br />‘Yes.’ Imogen said. ‘Maybe I should.’claire phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16313963622279623204noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5637493278275929558.post-85140599566401195632009-02-03T05:06:00.000-08:002009-02-03T05:10:24.879-08:00Mulberry Gin Chapters 7 & 8.Chapter Seven.<br /><br />Cherith put the phone down and went to make tea. Tea was always the best thing when she needed to think. She shook her head and sat at the table, nice china cup with saucer, milk in a little jug, sugar in a bowl. She waited her customary five minutes before pouring from the china tea pot and then adding the milk last, never first, the milk should never go in first. After she had performed this timeless ritual she looked at the paraphernalia on the table. All that just for a single cup of tea? She had watched Imogen making herself tea once with a tea bag in a mug and had spent the rest of the day wondering where she had gone wrong with her only child. Now she looked at the kitchen table and saw the tea pot that would need the loose tea washing out of it, the milk jug that would need washing, the sugar that would have to be covered or it would go into lumps, and then the tea cup, saucer and spoon to wash and put back in their place on the dresser, all that for a single cup of tea. Maybe there was something in a tea bag and a mug. But then Henry liked ‘proper’ loose tea made ‘properly’. What would happen if she started buying tea bags she knew very well. Henry would refuse to drink it, then he would shout, grind his teeth and stamp about the house until she bought ‘proper’ tea again. And even if she started using tea bags for herself when he was at work he’d know and there would be the same fuss. She sighed and put the tea pot back on the dresser. The last few days had been a nightmare and she couldn’t see it getting any better unless Imogen came home. Would that be the best thing? Thinking about what Imogen had just done she couldn’t suppress the smile that had crept across her face.<br /><br />As the car pulled up the drive James could see that there were no light on and no sign of life. James slammed the door and sent the driver off with his orders for the next day. He fumbled with the lock and let himself into the echoing house. There was a lingering smell of stale whisky coming from the sitting room and no smells of any kind coming from the kitchen. His stomach reminded him that he hadn’t had lunch. Dumping everything at the bottom of the stairs he picked up the phone to call his brother. It was, as usual, Jonathans’ wife Olwen who answered.<br />‘Hello.’ Olwen’s voice trilled out.<br />‘Hello Olwen, James.’<br />‘Hi James.’ there was a sigh in her voice that Olwen hoped James hadn’t heard. ‘How are you?’<br />‘Fine, fine. I was just wondering what plans you had tonight?’<br />Not again, Olwen rolled her eyes. ‘Well nothing really but…’<br />James cut her off ‘Oh good. Well in that case would you mind if I popped round for a bit?’<br />‘Actually James yes I would.’ She was cross, very cross. Every night since Imogen gone away he had invited himself round for the evening. She wouldn’t mind if it was because he was lonely or upset, but it was just to get fed. As soon as dinner was over he would thank her for the meal and leave. Well no more. He had a perfectly good kitchen, in fact she would kill for a kitchen like that, it was about time he got to know it.<br />‘Oh.’ James didn’t really know what to say. ‘Oh I see.’<br />‘I’m sorry James but you have a kitchen and a supermarket round the corner. I think it’s time you got to know them both.’ She knew she was sounding rude and she was sorry, but really they were not a restaurant.<br />‘Um, well, um. Perhaps I’ll see you at the weekend?’<br />‘We’ll see. I’m sorry James I’ve got to go Anthony it trying to flush Abby’s Barbie down the toilet.’ And she put the phone down before James had the chance to sound any more like a wounded puppy, which she knew very well he was not.<br />James put the phone down. Oh well it was worth a try. He picked up the post. Amongst the bills and more bills was a flyer from a new Chinese take away with a menu on the back. He took it through to the sitting room and poured himself a large whisky. By the end of the second glass he had ordered sweet and sour chicken with all the trimmings.<br />He rummaged around in the kitchen for a tray. The foil cartons were sitting on the worktop getting cold. Finally he found one tucked behind the microwave, what was it doing there?, and loaded the cartons onto it. A plate would mean washing up so he just opened them and left them as they were. He threw his jacket onto the sofa and lowered himself into the leather chair. It had been a crap day, which Henry had managed to make even worse. There had been a meeting arranged for the morning which he had managed to be late for. Then he had forgotten the name of the American they were sucking up to at the moment. Henry had sat there grinding his teeth, which really didn’t help. He missed lunch to try and catch up with some papers that needed signing, but he had been interrupted and had then forgotten all about them. There had been shouting outside his office and he just saw his secretary dabbing at tears before Henry swept into his office.<br />He closed his eyes, let his full stomach take over, and fell into a deep sleep.<br /><br />James pushed the take away carton off of his desk into the full waste paper basket. The sweet and sour sauce had left a bright orange stain on his papers and he cursed as he gathered them up and shoved then into his briefcase. It was too much to expect him to live like this. He needed to concentrate on his work not have to worry about bloody sweet and sour sauce and full bins. He decided to call Olwen, with any luck she would come round and sort things out.<br />‘Hello’ Olwen’s voice was sharp and sounded more than a little annoyed.<br />‘Olwen. James. I need your assistance.’<br />‘James do you know what time it is?’<br />‘Eight thirty.’ he answered. Strange question, he thought.<br />‘Exactly.’<br />‘I don’t understand. What do you mean?’<br />‘I mean that I have two children to get to school, so unless you’re bleeding to death or have someone holding a gun to your head can you sod off?’<br />‘Well I…I mean it’s…’ he flondered.<br />‘Is it very important James?’ Olwen said in exasperation.<br />‘Yes it is. The house is a tip and I need it cleaning.’<br />‘Then clean it. Goodbye James. Call me later, if you must.’ and she put the phone down.<br />James was left with the receiver in his hand. How dare she talk to him like that! I mean she was his sister in law, and of his younger brother, what right had she got to tell him to sod off? He slammed the phone down and picked up his briefcase. Bloody women.<br /><br />Un-bloody-believable! Olwen finished loading Anthony and Abby into the car. James really was the giddy limit, it was no wonder Imogen had gone away, if Jonathan had been anything like that she would have left him years ago. She had been surprised because Imogen never went away on her own, James always knew where she was. She had always felt a bit sorry for Imogen being married to James. She loved Jonathan but his older brother was a different matter. You needed to be strong to be married to a Lampress, and Olwen had seen straight away that Imogen wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t all James’s fault, she knew his history, she knew he’d been damaged, but even so a lot of it was genetics. Jonathan could be arrogant, was very full of himself when they had first met, but she soon sorted that out. She caught him young, that was the difference. They were teenagers when they had first met at university. James on the other hand had lived alone for too long before Imogen, and had plenty of time to brood over the other women and become far too set in his ways. He needed a good kick up the arse, and maybe Imogen had unwittingly just given him it. Could she come round and clean the house, it would be laughable if he wasn’t being entirely serious. Oh James, she thought, for an educated man you’ve got a lot to learn.<br /><br /><br />It really was too much. He shouldn’t be having to do this, he thought James was a level headed, like minded chap. Henry blasted his horn at a cyclist that was on the other side of the road, roads were for cars for God’s sake. It was disappointing, very disappointing. It was not what he had expected from his second in command. Bloody, bloody Rowena. She was dead but she still couldn’t help making his life difficult. How was she ever his sister? He should have been an only child and if his parents had had him first then they wouldn’t have needed her. She was just so damn bright, she dazzled you. You couldn’t think properly when she was around. And she could never see that she was strange, all that purple velvet and those paintings that didn’t look like anything.<br />Honk, honk. Why was it that no one knew how to drive anymore? He shook his fist at a young woman that had just cut him up. There was no respect anymore that was the trouble. No one had any respect for someone who knew how things should be, who had standards. No one had standards these days or patience. It was all instant this and on demand that; there was no quality left. That was part of Rowena’s trouble; always in too much of a hurry to try everything. And she had tried everything. The amount of times he had seen their mother pacing about the landing waiting for her to come home after some party or other. And he had found alcohol in her room on more than one occasion. She was part of what had been know as the ‘fast set’ in the area and had burst into hoots of laughter when their parents had suggested she should do ‘the season’ in order to find a suitable husband. Not that there were any shortage of candidates, even some of his own friends had put themselves forward. It was shameful the way she had flirted with his friends. At least three of them declared to him that they were in love with her. How many hearts she had played with and broken over the years he shuddered to think. He always had to try and make up for it of course. If Rowena wasn’t going to bring pride to the family name then it was up to him. He could still remember the look on their fathers face when she came home with that bloody motorbike. Henry hated that bike and the taunts he got from the other boys over it. She used to come to his school on it to use the library. Girls were not allowed but somehow Rowena had talked the head into letting her in because of their prize collection of mediaeval poetry. She could talk anyone into anything. For years as a child he had watched her wrap everyone around her little finger and tried to learn her tricks. But whenever he tried he was met with angry refusal and cries of ‘how dare you be so cheeky.’ Now it seemed everyone was being cheeky all the time. I mean just look at this idiot here, what dose he think he’s doing, oh no you don’t. Henry swung the car out to stop the 4x4 from overtaking. Harris would decide to take his ghastly family to Spain this week. Well if James was going to carry on being so unpredictable then he could give up his driver and then at least Henry wouldn’t have to put up with London traffic.<br />‘Cherith!’ Henry barked his way through the door.<br />‘In the sitting room,’ oh dear, Cherith thought, another bad day. ‘Do you want a drink?’<br />‘A very large one. Bloody traffic. You would not believe the idiots that they let on the roads these days.’<br />‘Oh dear. Here.’ she handed him a Gin and Tonic.<br />Henry took a large gulp and sat down heavily in his chair. ‘What’s for dinner?’<br />‘Roast chicken, your favourite.’ Cherith got up and headed for the kitchen. ‘I’d better check it.’ She escaped to the company of the half cooked bird. With any luck a couple more drinks and a full stomach would mean a quiet evening.<br />‘James was late again this morning. Every morning this week.’ Henry’s voice carried into the kitchen.<br />‘Oh dear.’ she called back. She took the chicken out and gave it a poke.<br />‘When I find that silly little bitch I’m going to drag her back by her hair. I’m too old for this. I don’t suppose she’s been in touch?’<br />Cherith bit her lip and tried not to think about her conversation with Imogen. ’No.’ she called back. She heard Henry harrumph and the Gin bottle clatter. She sighed again, it was all she seemed to do these days. What bothered her the most was how angry Henry was, he didn’t seem to be at all worried that something dreadful might have happened to their only child. She knew that Imogen was safe and well, but Henry didn’t.<br />They were close when Imogen was small and he was affectionate enough, although in small doses. Showing affection was not something men of his generation found easy, she told herself. When Rowena suggested Imogen go down to stay with her for the summer holidays he had been only too happy to agree. He found a child running around all day messing up his papers, interrupting his phone calls and asking endless questions particularly frustrating, however much he loved her. Cherith had been amazed given his antagonism towards his sister, but she had reluctantly agreed. Not that her opinion would have made much difference.<br />Henry had blamed Rowena for changing Imogen and turning her against him, but Cherith was not so sure. It was true that Henry and Rowena were poles apart. And it was true that whenever Imogen came back from staying with her aunt she was different for a few weeks. But, to Cherith, it was more than that.<br />To start with Imogen was not a boy. She was sure he was disappointed, although he said nothing. He seemed to love Imogen until she started to grow up and get ideas of her own. That was the real trouble. As far as Cherith could see it had nothing to do with any small influence Rowena might have had and everything to do with his loss of power over her. But you couldn’t tell him. She could still remember the row he and Rowena had had the last time they had gone down to Cornwall. They had gone to collect Imogen for some reason she could not now recall. Usually Rowena put her on the train and someone met her at the station.<br />It started because Imogen would not give Henry a hug and gave him a kiss on the cheek instead.<br />‘That’s your doing I suppose?’ Henry had spat at Rowena from the corner of his mouth as they went inside.<br />‘Hello Henry, good to see you.’ Rowena had said laughing. It had been a mistake to laugh. She mush have known the reaction she would get and maybe it was what she had wanted. The ‘Imogen issue’ had been brewing between them during months of phone conversations.<br />‘How dare you laugh at me in front of Imogen.’ He had snapped.<br />‘Oh Henry really. Sit down and have a cup of tea.’<br />Henry had sat down and he had drunk his tea in silence, but Cherith could hear him grinding his teeth the whole time. Eventually he stood up and spoke.<br />‘I think this will be the last time Imogen will be coming to stay Rowena.’ It was his best ‘I’m telling you what to do’ voice usually reserved for employees. He fixed his sister with a stare that defied her to argue.<br />‘Why?’ Rowena kept her voice low and steady.<br />‘I don’t need to give a reason.’<br />‘Oh I think you do Henry. I can see no reason why you should want to stop Imogen’s visits, especially when she loves it here so much.’<br />‘That is one of the reasons. She is becoming too attached to this place.’<br />‘And to me. Say what you really mean Henry, don’t fanny around the issue. You don’t want to stop her coming to Cornwall, you want to stop her seeing me.’ Rowena continued to keep her voice low and gentle, something she knew would provoke her brother even more.<br />‘Not at all. I’m quite happy for you to come to London and stay with us. I just think it would be better for Imogen to spend the summer at home from now on.’ He was trying very hard not to loose his temper.<br />‘Why the sudden change of heart? You have always been quite happy to get her out of you way during the summer holidays.’<br />Henry gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. Cherith could see he was struggling. ‘I want her home from now on and that’s an end to it.’<br />‘But I like coming here daddy. Please don’t say I can’t come anymore.’ Poor Imogen was close to tears. How old was she, about eleven, maybe twelve? Cherith could still see her face, confusion and an anger she didn’t know what to do with.<br />‘It’s not open to discussion.’ He had said this without even looking at her. Imogen had burst into tears and ran into the bedroom.<br />‘Oh that was very clever.’ Rowena’s voice had an edge now, she was starting to loose her temper to.<br />‘I do not need lessons in child rearing from you.’<br />‘Well you need them from someone.’ That was uncalled for, Cherith had thought.<br />‘How dare you. How dare you!’ That was it, he’d gone, now the shouting would start.<br />‘I dare because someone’s got to stand up for her. Someone’s got to stop you trampling all over her like you do everyone else, like you have done to Cherith.’<br />‘Rowena that’s not fair.’ Cherith had piped in. ‘Henry looks after us both very well.’<br />‘You mean he throws money at you. When was the last time he told you he loved you?’<br />Cherith opened her mouth to speak but closed it again and looked away.<br />‘Exactly. Henry you are a bully and I will not let you bully that poor girl. You should see her when she first arrives and how different she is when she leaves. I collect a timid little mouse from the station and when I put her back on that train she’s a different girl, alive, excited about everything and not scared of her own shadow.’<br />‘Rubbish. When she leaves us she’s normal and when she comes home she’s like a wild thing, and that’s not good for her.’<br />‘You mean it’s not good for you. Of course it’s good for her. I let her be a child and that can only be good for her. You want her to be seen and not herd, like some kind of Victorian, trained not to be a nuisance. For God sake Henry she’s a little girl, let her be that.’<br />‘I am not a bully and I do not bully Imogen. She has a perfectly normal childhood at home. I don’t let her run wild, I try to teach her a proper way to behave.’ Henry was clenching and unclenching his fists and he was starting to turn an alarming shade of red.<br />‘Proper. Normal. What does that mean?’ Rowena had resumed her calmness.<br />‘It means respect, manners, principles, morals and knowing how to behave. All the things you are sadly lacking.’ It was the same argument again and again. Imogen wasn’t the cause, she was just the excuse for them to go back over the same old ground.<br />‘Poor, poor Henry. It must hurt very much having that rod up your backside all the time, how do you ever sleep at night?’<br />‘That’s it.’ He picked Cherith’s bag up and threw it into her lap. ‘Get Imogen. We’re leaving.’<br />Cherith scuttled off to the bedroom to fetch a still sobbing Imogen.<br />‘Come on darling it’s time to go.’ She could hear them still arguing in the sitting room. ‘Let’s wait for daddy in the garden.’ She took Imogen’s hand and led her out through the windows into the garden.<br />‘Why is daddy so cross?’ Imogen asked in a voice still recovering from her tears.<br />‘He’s not cross with us darling.’<br />‘But he says I can’t come here anymore. What have I done?’<br />‘Nothing darling, nothing. He just thinks it would be better if you had the holidays at home with us for a while. It will be nice for us to have holidays all together won’t it?’ They went and sat under the Mulberry tree. Imogen slipped her hand into her mothers and they sat there for a few minutes in silence.<br />Eventually Imogen looked back over her shoulder to the cottage. ‘Will I be able to come again sometime?’<br />‘We’ll see darling.’<br />And that was that. As far as Cherith knew there was no more contact between Henry and Rowena. She never asked what had been said while they were out in the garden, and Henry never spoke of it. They drove home in silence and Imogen didn’t speak to her father for two days. He blamed Rowena, saying she must have said something to poison Imogen against him. It was not long after that trip that Henry enrolled Imogen at boarding school, saying it would be good for her.<br />One summer. One little girls holiday. It was always the little things wasn’t it?<br /><br />Cherith shook her head at the memories and drained the vegetables. Maybe she should have put her foot down, maybe she should have stood up to Henry. Maybe she should just serve dinner and stop worrying about the past.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Chapter Eight.<br /><br />Imogen pulled the beetle up outside the post office. When she came here as a child she always came down to the village with Rowena in the funny little purple car. Now she was carrying on the tradition. Mind you it was not just for nostalgia’s sake, there was no milk man anymore and the paper boy wouldn’t come out as far as Mulberry cottage. So if she wanted a daily paper and fresh milk it meant a trip to the village.<br />‘Hello my lover.’ Mr Penharren greeted her in his usual way.<br />‘Hello Mr P. Has the bread come in yet?’<br />‘Half an hour ago, I’ve got yours out back. Just a sec.’ Mr Penharren disappeared through the bead curtain.<br />Imogen looked around while she waited. Over by the postcards she noticed a young man that she hadn’t seen in there before. In ten days she had met just about everyone in the village, they had all wanted to welcome her ’home’ and Eleanor made sure she knew who everyone was in relation to each other. The young man was peeping at her over the top of the postcard stand and she felt herself blush. She distracted herself by getting milk from the oversized fridge and sorting through the papers on the counter. Mr Penharren seemed to be taking a long time just to fetch her bread. She turned round to look at the postcards, but he had gone. She frowned.<br />The drive from the village was always too short. You could spend all day meandering around these lanes with their steep, fern encrusted banks. Some of them were positively jewel like with the rich green punchered with purples, yellows, reds and pinks. As she was leaving the village she saw the young man from the post office walking in the same direction and thumbing a lift. Without thinking she slowed down and wound down the window. What the hell had he got on his back?<br />‘Hello. Where are you going?’ What are you doing woman?<br />‘The Tragowen farm?’ He leaned down to look through the window and Imogen got a whiff of citrus and cloves.<br />‘I go past there. Hop in if you like.’ What was she saying? How many times had James told her never to pick anyone up by the side of the road, especially not men? It was too late to change her mind though because he was already sitting beside her, the oversized rucksack at his feet. Oh dear he was very good looking wasn’t he, but very young, too young. Pull yourself together, he’s a boy and you are a grown up, sort of married woman she told herself.<br />‘I’m Phillip.’ There was an accent.<br />‘Hi Phillip. I’m Imogen.’ It was her best cut glass voice and she hoped it would make her sound older.<br />‘Great name. D’ya live round here?’ He had turned his head and was looking straight at her, she could feel his eyes scanning her face.<br />‘I think so. I mean I’ve just inherited the cottage next to the farm. I’m living there at the moment.’ Your blabbering, stop it immediately she told herself.<br />‘So we’ll be neighbours then. I’m working on the farm for the summer. I wanted to see an English summer. I usually go home but I thought it might be fun to do something a bit different.’ He wasn’t taking his eyes off her and it was getting a bit disconcerting.<br />‘Where is home? Not England.’<br />‘Australia. The Gold Coast. That’s why I wanted to come to Cornwall. I grew up surfing and I wanted to see if the Cornish surf is all they say it is.’<br />‘I wouldn’t know about that, but there seems to be plenty of surfers about.’<br />‘Must be a good sign. So will you be around for the summer?’<br />‘Probably. I hope so. I don’t really know yet.’ He was making her sound and feel like a teenager. Not that she had ever felt like this as a teenager. She’d never felt like this ever at all. Oh bloody hell. Look, she told herself, he’s a good looking young man who seems to have an unhealthy interest in your nose. You left your husband less than two weeks ago, if that is even what you’ve done, stop being so childish and just drive the car.<br />‘I hope you’ll stay around.’ He smiled the kind of dazzling smile you only see on Australian soap opera’s.<br />‘So do I.’ She felt herself smile back, and once she’d started she couldn’t stop.<br /><br />Eleanor took the tea pot out into the garden and set it down on the iron work table. Molly started to pour without being asked.<br />‘Have you seen Gin today?’ she asked and passed Eleanor her tea.<br />‘Not yet. I saw her car in the village this morning. She seems to be settling down don’t you think?’<br />‘Oh I do hope so. I’m surprised we haven’t seen any of the family yet though. I thought James might have come after her.’ Molly mused<br />‘That’s assuming she’s told them where she is. My bet is she’s not told them about all this yet. Henry would have been down here all guns blazing, dragging her home if he knew were she was.’ Eleanor sipped her tea thoughtfully. She had been expecting a scene before now. ‘Mind you they’ll find out eventually. I know Row kept the will a secret from everyone except Gin and us, but they’ll put two and two together sooner or later. Let’s just hope it’s later.’<br />‘Yes lets. Oh dear I don’t think we want Henry down here shouting the odds do we?’ Molly’s hand shook slightly at the thought.<br />Eleanor snorted. ‘I’d like to see him try his nonsense with me. I’d pack him back off to London before he had the chance to get out of the car.’<br />‘I know you would dear. But it would be better if he didn’t come at all. You don’t think she would go back do you?’<br />‘She bloody well better not. And if she does it had better be to sort out a divorce.’<br />‘Eleanor!’<br />‘Molly don’t pretend you like James or that you thought their marriage was a good idea. You were as horrified as the rest of us. You can’t want her to stay married to him?’<br />‘Well…no. But I don’t think a marriage should be written off just like that.’<br />‘Not a proper marriage no. But let’s face it theirs was always more of a business deal. She was too young and too scared of Henry to do anything else. No the best thing for our Imogen would be to cut loose completely and find herself a nice young man her own age, and preferably one with a few principles this time, and a personality.’<br />Molly sighed. Eleanor was right of course, to a point anyway. They had all been very upset by Imogen’s marriage to James, but it could never be right just to throw a marriage away. Mind you James was too old for her really, and he was so very like Henry, which wouldn’t be good for her. Still people change and Molly had always believed that if you look hard enough then you could find the best in anyone, even Henry. Poor Henry, Molly had always felt a little sorry for him. She was terrified of him it was true, but there was something slightly pathetic about him to.<br />‘I think.’ Molly said. ‘We should let Gin decide about that.’<br />‘Maybe. But we also promised Row we would look after her.’<br />‘I know, but she’s not a little girl anymore dear. Oh wasn’t she lovely when she was little. I mean she still is, but she was so sweet.’<br />‘And so nervous. Do you remember it took her two weeks before she would speak to us without being prompted?’ Eleanor poured out more tea.<br />‘Such nice manners though, not like some of the village children.’<br />‘Not that they lasted long one she started playing with them. Do you think she had ever played with other children before she came here?’<br />‘She must have. I can’t imagine Henry and Cherith being quite that repressive, she went to school.’<br />‘I know, but I mean running around the garden screaming with her friends. I don’t think she did much of that.’ Molly started loading the tray with the tea things. ‘I did sometimes wonder whether she knew how to be a child before she came down here.’<br />‘Well she did by the time she went home. I bet that went down well.’<br />Molly shook her head. ‘At least it hasn’t done her too much harm.’<br />‘We don’t think.’ Eleanor raised an eyebrow.<br /><br />James pulled into his brothers drive. Earlier that day Olwen had called and asked him to lunch. Although this was not a particularly uncommon event on a Sunday James felt some apprehension after their last conversation. Olwen had not exactly been sympathetic to his plight and seemed to imply that she thought he had brought it all upon himself, which was clearly quite ridiculus.<br />‘Hello James.’ Jonathan opened the door to his older brother. And today James really did look like the elder sibling. Jonathan had noticed little changes over the last ten days or so but had said nothing, not even to Olwen,. He didn’t want to be disloyal but something was going to have to be said.<br />‘Hello.’ James greeted his brother with the usual pat on the shoulder. Jonathan was definatly putting on weight James thought. And there were other slippages he had noticed. For one thing it seemed Jonathan no longer wore a tie for work. It was a shame when people started to let themselves go and James wondered if he should have a word, after all it wouldn’t do to let the side down.<br />‘We’re in the garden, go on through. It’s such a nice day we thought we’d have lunch on the patio, that ok?’<br />‘Fine, fine.’ James was not expecting such a laid back affair and had put a tie on under his v neck sweater. As children Sunday lunch was always a formal occasion with the best china in the dinning room, even in high summer. Imogen had happily carried this on, but it seemed Olwen was not so respectful of family tradition. As they went out into the garden James saw the children running around the lawn, it was a very idyllic scene he could not deny. Watching Olwen flit about bringing plates and dishes out from the kitchen James found himself wondering what Imogen was doing.<br />‘James?’<br />‘Sorry, miles away.’<br />‘I was asking what you wanted to drink?’ Olwen was holding an empty glass.<br />‘Is it too early for a scotch?’<br />Olwen and Jonathan exchanged glances, Jonathan nodded but pinched his fingers together to indicate just a small one.<br />‘Of course not.’ Olwen went and fetched the whisky and hoped it would not be the first of many. This was going to be a difficult afternoon. All week she and Jonathan had been talking about the ‘situation’ and had decided that it needed tackling head on. It was important that they sort out what was going on, especially as it seemed James was not taking it seriously.<br /><br />Imogen was spending her Sunday with Molly and Eleanor. The two ladies had turned up on her doorstep with a large picnic basket and they had squeezed into the beetle and bumped down to the beach. It was a perfect late June day with the soft light bathing everything in a silver glow. The sea was dazzling with the sun seeming to come right out of the sky to touch the top of each wave. Imogen sat on a towel with her legs crossed revelling in it all. She was vaguely aware of a conversation going on above her head but she had long since tuned out of it. Her mind had started to wander and before too long she was back to two days ago with a pair of startlingly blue eyes and an Australian accent.<br />‘Don’t you think dear?’ Molly looked down from her deckchair.<br />Imogen became aware that she was being addressed directly. ‘Sorry, what?’<br />‘I was just saying,’ said Molly, ‘that it would be nice if Cherith could stay for a few days when she comes down.’<br />‘Yes it would, but I can’t see it. You know that Row made it a condition that she didn’t tell dad. If she says she’s going away for a few days he’ll insist on coming with her, and that would be a disaster.’<br />‘So how will she manage? You can’t really do Cornwall in a day from London, not there and back?’ Molly sounded concerned.<br />‘I don’t know. I really must call her about it.’ Imogen sighed. It certainly was an odd thing for Rowena to do, she could understand it, but it seemed a bit extreme. ‘Maybe she’ll let me send her something.’<br />‘I think Row wanted her to choose for herself, she was very specific about it all you know.’ Eleanor said.<br />‘I know but that would mean going behind dad’s back, and that is not something mum would be happy doing.’ Although she had seemed happy to keep her own presence from him. Maybe something could be organised.<br />‘If you ask me she should he doing a lot more of it. How old does your father think she is for God’s sake? It’s not the 1950’s anymore.’ Eleanor was indignant.<br />‘No, I know. I’ll talk to her I promise. I’ll try and persuade her to have a few days with us.’ But Imogen was not hopeful.<br />‘It would do her good.’ Molly said. ‘You look ten times better than you did when you arrived dear. I must say Cornwall seems to agree with you, you have a sparkle in you eyes.’<br />‘I wonder if it’s just the scenery?’ Eleanor was joking but her words made Imogen blush and she tried to turn away before they saw. It was too ridiculus, Phillip was just a nice boy who was going to be working on the Tragowen farm for the summer.<br />‘You’re blushing!’ Eleanor was triumphant. ‘Imogen Lampress you are blushing. Have I stumbled upon something?’<br />‘No, not at all.’ Oh hell if they got the sent of something they wouldn’t let it go. ‘If I was blushing it was at such a silly idea.’<br />‘If you say so dear.’ Molly looked across at Eleanor who was grinning widely at the thought of new gossip. ‘We won’t say any more about it. Will we Eleanor?’<br />‘Oh no, not a word. But you will keep us in the loop won’t you?’<br />‘Keep us in the what?’ Molly looked puzzled.<br />‘The loop. I thought you watched ‘West Wing’?’<br />‘I do, well I start. I know you say how good it is but I always seem to fall asleep.’<br />‘Oh good grief.’<br />Thank goodness. They had forgotten all about her unusual pigmentation and she could go back to watching the waves while they debated the relative merits of late night telly.<br /><br />‘Olwen that was delicious.’ James wasn’t expecting salad but as salads go it was a very good one.<br />‘Thank you James. Now I had better go and rescue the kitchen, I’ll leave you two to talk.’ Olwen shot Jonathan a look of encouragement.<br />James rose slightly out of his chair as Olwen left them, he noticed Jonathan never moved, they had been taught to rise when a lady left a room and this must surely apply to patios as well.<br />‘Lovely day.’ Jonathan said looking around. ‘Hope it doesn’t rain.’<br />‘They haven’t forecast any.’<br />Jonathan oached about and looked across to the kitchen window. Olwen gestured towards James and mouthed ‘go on’.<br />Jonathan took a deep breath. ‘So how are you James?’<br />‘Fine.’ James drained his glass and looked around for the bottle. ‘Any more of that?’<br />‘Um.. Sure.’ Jonathan bolted into the dinning room to fetch the scotch.<br />‘Jonathan, what are you doing?’ Olwen hissed through the kitchen door.<br />‘He wants another drink.’<br />‘You’re supposed to be finding out about Imogen.’<br />‘I’m getting around to it.’<br />‘Oh for goodness sake.’ Olwen snatched the bottle from her husband and took it out to James.<br />‘Oh jolly good.’ James smiled as Olwen poured more whisky into his glass.<br />‘James.’ she said sitting down opposite him. ‘We want to talk to you.’<br />‘Oh yes?’ James closed his eyes as he took a long sip.<br />‘James has Imogen left you?’ Jonathan grimaced at his wife’s bluntness.<br />‘I beg your pardon?’ James snapped his eyes open<br />‘Imogen. Has she left you?’<br />‘I don’t think that’s any of your business.’ James blustered.<br />‘I’m sorry James but I think it is. First you invite yourself to dinner five nights in a row, then you call me at eight thirty on a school morning and ask me to come and clean for you. You’re drinking, and, I have to say, you don’t look yourself.’ There, it was said.<br />James opened his mouth and closed it again, then he started to turn rather red in the face. Eventually he stood up. ‘That was a lovely meal Olwen, thank you.’<br />‘ Where are you going?’ Olwen said.<br />‘I think it would be better if I went home now.’<br />‘James sit down. We are worried about you and we want to find out what is going on. We want to help if we can. Please James, sit down and talk to us.’ Olwen put her hand out and touched James’s sleave. James stood stiffly for a moment, he didn’t want to turn round because he didn’t want to answer the question he didn’t know the answer to.<br />‘I’m sorry if I have been inconvenient to you.’ he turned around but he remained standing.<br />‘Oh for goodness sake James take that rod out from up your arse and sit down.’ Olwen was starting to loose patience with her brother in law.<br />James bristled but he did as he was told.<br />‘Right, so, shall we start again?’ Jonathan said a little too brightly. ‘Of course your marriage is your business,’ he shot a look across the table at Olwen, ‘but we have noticed that you seem to be not quite yourself at the moment and that Imogen seems to have gone away.’<br />‘I came back from New York last week and she wasn’t there, that’s it.’<br />‘Did she not leave a note or anything?’ Olwen asked.<br />James grimaced. ‘No,’ he said, ‘nothing. So I’m sure she’s just gone away for a while.’ He thought about the letter. It was rubbish, complete nonsense, not worth mentioning. When she came back it would be embarrassing if everyone knew.<br />‘Yes I’m sure you’re right, well let’s hope so anyway.’ Jonathan chirped.<br />‘So you know that she’s ok?’ Olwen said with a frown. ‘You’ve checked all the hospitals, that kind of thing?’<br />‘Oh yes.’ James smiled reassuringly. But he hadn’t, that was going a bit far surely? A bit on the melodramatic side. ‘She’s just gone for a short holiday. By next weekend she’ll be home. Bloody inconsiderate though, especially not telling me. No clean shirts, no food in the house. Anything left in that bottle?’ He held his glass out again.<br /><br />The ringing phone made Imogen jump, her first incoming call. For a moment she had to look around for the phone. She had called Cherith on her mobile, not wanting to use the house phone. It was large and black with a dialling ring and a cord connecting the phone to the receiver. And it made a proper, loud, old fashioned ring. A million miles away from her tiny mobile with it’s rather pathetic ring tone that was supposed to be the music from a hit movie, but actually sounded more like a mouse being tortured, and which she had turned off as soon as she had finished with it. It drove James mad that she only switched it on to use it. But she didn’t like the thought that any Tom, Dick or Harry could interrupt her whenever they felt like it.<br />‘Hello?’ Who would be calling her? And what if it was someone who hadn’t heard and wanted Rowena, what would she tell them? She crossed her fingers.<br />‘Hello darling.’<br />‘Mum. Oh hello.’ Imogen sighed with relief.<br />‘Your father’s gone to the golf club with David and Robert so I dug out Rowena’s phone number, yours now I suppose.’<br />‘Yes I suppose it is.’<br />‘So how are you?’<br />‘Fine, good even. How’s things there?’<br />Cherith paused for a moment, ‘Not to bad, not really.’<br />‘Dose everyone hate me?’<br />‘No darling of course not. Your father will calm down…eventually.’<br />‘Oh dear, that bad?’<br />‘I would be lying if I said no. But I’ve been thinking about it and if you were really that unhappy then you had to do something about it. I just wish you had talked to me about it before. I can’t bear the thought that you were that unhappy and didn’t come to me, I feel like I’ve failed you.’<br />‘Oh mum. I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt anyone, especially not you.’ she sighed. ‘I didn’t think it would cause all this fuss. Have I caused a fuss? Dad and James are cross but they don’t miss me do they? I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you, but I thought you would talk me out of it.’<br />‘I probably would have, for purely selfish reasons, and that would have been a terrible thing to do. But to us it seems to have come out of the blue. You and James seemed so…so… settled.’ Cherith realised that she couldn’t say ‘happy’.<br />‘I suppose we were, after a fashion. I told myself dad was right, and with you backing him up…’<br />Cherith winced. She could still see Imogen sitting on the end of the bed sobbing because James had proposed and Henry was telling her she must accept him. ‘That was wrong of me. I let your father persuade me it was all such a good idea and I started to believe it.’<br />‘I’m not blaming you mum, good God I know how dad can be. I know you had to go along with it. I hadn’t decided anything until I got Rowena’s letter. She had left a letter with her solicitor for him to send on to me after she’d gone. It made a few things click into place; do you know what I mean? It became clear. And it was the only thing I could do. Dad made me totally reliant and then James made me totally reliant. No one was ever stingy or mean, but if I even wanted a new pair of shoes I had to ask for them. It made me feel I had to justify my whole existence and give value for money. Then suddenly I had money of my own. I knew James would insist he knew the best thing to do with it and I’d never see it again. And I knew he’d make me sell Mulberry cottage, and I couldn’t bear that. And Dad would back him up. It would be even more impossible to make myself herd. I panicked a bit I suppose.’<br />‘Oh darling. So does that mean you haven’t gone for good then? That your just there while you think about things?’ Cherith sounded hopeful.<br />‘I must admit I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. But now I’m here I don’t think I want to be anywhere else, not for a while anyway.’<br />‘I see.’<br />‘Anyway I was going to call you.’ Imogen lightened her voice and changed the subject.<br />‘Oh yes?’<br />‘Has Mr Pengellen been in touch with you, about the will?’<br />‘Yes I had a letter last week, it’s hidden at the bottom of my knitting basket. It was nice of her to think of me, but I really don’t think I can follow it up. It’s all this about no Henry. I know they hated each other but to cut him out of her will completely was a bit unfair. He keeps going on about the family money going to strangers. And he still phones poor Mr Pengellen every day trying to find out who got what. If he found out that I had been left anything it would just make it all worse.’<br />‘He hasn’t put two and two together then?’<br />‘Amazingly not. I thought it would have been obvious. I mean Rowena dies leaving a small fortune and a few days after the funeral you go missing. I wasn’t surprised he wouldn’t go to the funeral. I thought you would have though.’<br />‘I would have, but I had that letter from Rowena, via Mr Pengellen, and in it she asked me not to.’<br />‘What a strange thing to do.’<br />‘Yes. She certainly made sure Mr Pengellen earned his fees.’<br />‘So why did she not want you to go? I would have thought you were the one person she would have wanted there.’<br />‘She said she had good reason and that I would know about it in due course. I trusted her and stayed away. It was a horrible day though, I felt so guilty.’ Imogen would never forget that day, and she would never forget getting that letter. She had read it over and over. It was only four weeks ago since Rowena died but it seemed like a different lifetime.<br />‘Dear Gin,<br />I’m so sorry that I have had to leave you without seeing you again. I don’t blame you for that, and never have, please don’t feel guilty, our phone conversations and your lovely letters were more than enough. And thank you for all the photos.<br />Now I have a favour to ask of you. This will sound very strange but I do not want you to come down for the funeral. Please don’t get upset, I have good reason to ask. I have already made all the arrangements and Molly and Eleanor are going to make sure everything goes to plan. Mr Pengellen has a series of letters with instructions as to when to send them. This one will have been sent out the day after my death. You must remember that I have known what will happen for a long time and have had plenty of time to adjust. I hope you won’t be angry that I didn’t tell you of my condition, I didn’t tell anyone except Molly, Eleanor and Mr Pengellen and they were sworn to secrecy.<br />In a few days your father will get a letter telling him that he is not in my will. This is why I do not want you to come down. I do not want things to become difficult for you later. Mr Pengellen will take care of everything and will contact you in due course.<br />I am leaving everything to you my darling girl and I hope you will accept it. Of course it is up to you who you tell about this, but I hope you will wait. Have a good think about what you really want to do with the rest of your life Gin. I know Henry only too well and I know enough about James to know that as soon as they find out your decisions will be compromised. The reason I am leaving everything to you, apart from the fact that I love you more than you know, is that I want you to have the chance to be and do what you want for yourself. I hope you will take this opportunity to make any changes you want to make. Molly and Eleanor will be there to help you when, or if, you decide to come back to Mulberry cottage as its new owner.<br />I have left a small bequest for your mother. I would like her to have whatever she wants from the house, a single item. She can have anything as long as you are happy for her to have it. However I do NOT want Henry to have any say in what she has. To achieve this I have made it a condition that she must come down and choose it for herself without him. I have organised a letter for her outlining all this and I hope she will not be offended. I would like you to make sure that whatever she takes is really what she wants and that she is not acting on any outside instruction.<br />I wanted so much to have made things right with Henry, but it was not to be. I did not want to tell him about my illness. Any forgiveness between us needed to be real and not out of any pity or sense of duty. However my attempts failed and he has refused to reply to my letters or to speak to me. So be it, we were obviously mot meant to be friends.<br />So my darling girl I am saying goodbye and good luck. Be true to yourself and don’t be afraid of the decisions you make, I’ll be with you.<br />Rowena.’<br />Imogen had started crying at the first line and hadn’t stopped all that day. She had put the letter in her jewellery box, where it still lay.<br />‘Of course I know now that she didn’t want me there in case questions were asked about the will that I might be uncomfortable answering. And if dad were there I might not have been able to lie to him. He always knows when someone is keeping something back.’<br />‘Don’t I know. Mind you thirty years of marriage has given me time to refine my lying techniques. But if I were to suddenly disappear off to Cornwall he would know something was going on. And I couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t follow me.’ It seemed Cherith regularly lied to Henry, Imogen was impressed.<br />‘Could you not tell him you were going away with a friend? What about Grace, you’ve been away with her before haven’t you?’ All this sneaking about was so childish; she wished they didn’t have to do it.<br />‘True. Yes that might work. I’ll think about it and sound Grace out, she likes it down there.’<br />‘It would be so nice to see you.’<br />‘ I’ll phone Grace in the morning.’claire phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16313963622279623204noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5637493278275929558.post-19934170826125155502009-01-29T11:48:00.000-08:002009-01-29T11:51:45.253-08:00Capter 4 Sorry!!So sorry I seem to have left out chaper 4!! If you can bare to read 4 then go back a read 5 & 6 it will make more sense. Won't do it again.<br /><br />Chapter Four<br /><br />James came to rather too suddenly. As soon as consciousness took hold so did the pain. His neck felt like someone had tried to snap it and left it badly out of shape, his headache from the day before had moved up a gear and was now trying to beat all records. He realised he had fallen asleep in the chair he had been slumped in all evening, which would explain the neck situation. It would also explain why his shoulders and back were joining in with his head.<br />With great care he stood up. And just as carefully sat back down again, the movement had woken his stomach. Looking at his watch he realised he hadn’t eaten for nearly twenty four hours, and that was on the plain which didn’t really count as proper food. His watch also told him that he was very late for the meeting he had arranged to go over the New York trip. He groaned as he realised that Henry and the rest of the board would be in the conference room right now. Unfortunately before he could do anything about it his body lurched him, without his permission, towards the kitchen sink to be very, very sick.<br />When he had eventually finished with the sink he staggered into the hall to the phone. He automatically dialled Henry’s mobile number; he knew he would have to explain his absence.<br />‘Henry March.’ In those two words James knew that this was not going to be an easy call.<br />‘Henry. It’s James….’<br />‘Where the bloody hell are you?!’ Henry cut him off, when he was in one of these moods he didn’t speak, he spat.<br />‘I know how late it is….’<br />‘You sound bloody awful, what’s the matter? It had better be serious.’<br />‘Very bad jet lag I think. I’ve only just woken. I need a shower but I’ll be there as soon as I can.’<br />‘You’d damn well better be. You’ve got half an hour.’ Henry’s voice was tightening and he was starting to hiss through his teeth.<br />‘I’ll be there. By the way Henry.’ James tried to sound as off hand as he could. ‘Is Imogen with you?’<br />‘No. Why? Isn’t she there?’ Henry was suspicious. He was like a bloodhound when it came to scandal, and once he’d got hold of something he turned into a determined terrier, and would not let go.<br />‘I expect she’s stayed with a friend. She’ll be home when I get back I’m sure. I’ll see you soon.’ And he hung up before Henry could question him further.<br />James knew Henry would want to quiz him about Imogen, he wondered if he should take her letter with him. He decided that it might not be such a good idea, for now it was private and James didn’t want to involve anyone else until he knew what was going on himself. Anyway right now he hadn’t got time for any of this, he had to go to work. He had to smooth things over with Henry and the rest of the board. Later he would give some thought to this stupid muddle, right now there were more important things to deal with.<br />When James opened the front door he realised that the car must have been waiting for him for hours. The look on the drivers face was one of furious contempt and angry impatience. James didn’t apologise or even look the man in the eye; he just climbed into the back seat and waited to be driven. It was the same driver that had been chauffeuring him around for the last five years but James had no idea of his name or anything about him. His secretary had a name but no life outside the office as far as James knew; in fact he had no idea what she did in the office when he wasn’t there. As long as everyone did as they were told and didn’t bother him then he really didn’t care.<br /><br />After a full English breakfast Imogen checked out. She would have loved to stay forever, but Cornwall beckoned and she had to get going. Reluctantly she left the beauty of the Cotswolds and turned towards the grimness of the motorway. It might have been possible to do the whole journey without the M5 but she had to make up the time she had lost yesterday. She still had responsibilities, one of which was an appointment with Rowena’s solicitor.<br />The motorway was deadly. Why did they have to make them so straight and boring? It was no wonder people fell asleep at the wheel. It was no good. She had to get off as soon as she could. She took the Barnstaple junction and hoped the A39 might be more interesting.<br />It turned out to be a fascinating drive with lots of charming stops. In Kilkhampton she found a proper tea shop and ate scones and clotted cream until she was sure she would be sick. There was also a farm shop which sold proper vegetables, not shrink wrapped and date stamped; she loaded up the passenger seat.<br />The further into Cornwall she got the more she relaxed. The world around her through the car windows started to change, and she felt the years dropping away. By the time she saw the sign for the small fishing town in which Mr Pengellan, the solicitor, was based she could have almost have been in another world, she felt so far away from London.<br />The harbour was the same bustling place Imogen remembered, but she was struck by the lack of fishing boats. When she was a child there were so many that she used to marvel at them all getting a mooring. Now there were less than a dozen. There were still plenty of boats but most were for the tourists or private sailing. It was such a shame. Like everyone else in London she had herd on the news about the decline in the fishing industry, and listened to the fishermen complaining about their lot. Then like everyone else she turned over to watch something more entertaining. Now she felt ashamed of herself. <br />She gave her name to the girl behind the desk and was asked to wait. As she sat there she could see right across the bay and out to sea, it was breathtaking.<br />‘Mrs Lampress?’ The sound of Mr Pengellan’s voice startled her and she turned round.<br />‘Yes.’ She took the hand she was offered.<br />He led her through to his office and they settled themselves on either side of the large oak desk.<br />‘I do appreciate you coming all this way Mrs Lampress. Unfortunately this is not something that can be done safely by post. I’m not happy sending such important documents.’<br />‘I quite understand. I was coming down anyway, I intend moving into the cottage.’<br />‘I see.’ Mr Pengellan didn’t sound like he saw, he sounded rather surprised. ‘Well we’d better get on with things.’ He went through a pile of papers and brought a few to the top.<br />‘There are one or two things for you to sign first.’ He handed her the papers and a pen.<br />After glancing at them Imogen signed and handed them back. Mr Pengellan looked them over, nodded to himself, and put them on another pile behind him.<br />‘Very good.’ he said and got up. He went over to an impressive looking safe, which wasn’t locked, and took out a set of keys.<br />‘Here we are.’ He handed them to Imogen.<br />‘Thank you.’ Imogen took them and held them tightly in her hand. Even if she had not known what there were for she would have recognised them. There was every key to everything in the cottage, whether it was kept locked or not, and most of it was not, and they hung off of three key rings linked together, the same key rings that had been used for the last thirty years. There was the enamelled green one with the gold Harrods logo, the silver R with its little diamond, and the gold metal locket which contained a photo of Rowena’s parents and one of Imogen as a baby. She stood up she slipped them into her pocket.<br />Mr Pengellan also rose and showed her to the door. They shook hands again, he wished her well and hoped she would consider him for any legal advice she might need in the future. Then she wandered slowly back to the car.claire phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16313963622279623204noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5637493278275929558.post-70477000218520199202009-01-28T12:07:00.000-08:002009-01-28T12:09:48.834-08:00Mulberry Gin Chapters five and six.Chapter Five<br /><br />Molly and Eleanor worked hard all morning removing the rest of the covers form the furniture, dusting, polishing, scrubbing and bleaching, clipping and weeding. Every now and then Molly would slip away to call for Boris, now no longer expecting anything but feeling she must do it anyway. Soon the cottage gleamed and the garden was once more a charming muddle. They made themselves a much needed cup of tea and collapsed into the deep, plush, cuddly armchairs.<br />‘I’m glad I don’t have to do that everyday. I will defiantly be more sympathetic to my own cleaner and gardener now.’ Eleanor sighed. ‘In fact they asked me yesterday if I wanted them to come up and help. I wish I’d said yes now.’<br />‘I know! I’m amazed Row still did all the gardening herself. Still we promised we would do it so it was only right that we did it ourselves.’<br />‘I suppose so.’ said Eleanor. ‘Especially the garden, it was her pride and joy. I remember her telling me how frustrated she felt when she lived in London. The garden was so huge with such a huge team of gardeners that she said she could never get any privacy; there was always one of them lurking in the shrubbery. And then, of course, her own house only had the communal garden in the square. She used to say that she didn’t know which was worse, gardeners lurking or neighbours.’ Eleanor laughed.<br />‘It must have been terribly frustrating.’ Molly agreed. ‘She certainly spent more time out than in.’<br />‘And do you remember when she first arrived? We all thought she was quite mad. Do you remember the motorbike?’ Eleanor started laughing again. ‘I will never forget the look on Mr Tregagh’s face when he first saw her on it! Priceless! He said that if she thought he was going to serve her in his post office after making such a spectacle of herself she had another think coming. He did though. He wouldn’t have dared not.’<br />‘Yes.’ Said Molly laughing too. ‘I remember he was always scared of her but I never did know why. Mind you she did look formidable on that bike. My Robert came home scandalized that a woman, and a lady at that, should think it proper to ride a motor bike. Row must have thought she had gone back thirty years.’<br />‘I would imagine it was still quite unusual to find ladies of a certain class riding around on Triumphs, even in London. It was nearly forty years ago after all.’ Eleanor took a gulp of tea to calm her giggles.<br />‘What shocked me was how beautiful she was when she took her helmet off, all that blonde hair. Oh I was so jealous of that hair, and her eyes. I always thought it was a waist that she should hide all that beauty away down here. And it always surprised me that she didn’t marry; she could have had her pick, even without the money.’ Molly sipped her tea and looked thoughtfully out of the window. ‘I know she had her reasons but I always thought it was a shame.’<br />‘I gather that was one of the reasons she moved. She was under pressure to marry. I know she moved out of home because her parents kept bringing ‘suitable’ young men home and making her have tea with them. The sixties were starting to swing and she wanted to swing with them. Shame they never swung this far.’ Eleanor sighed.<br />‘I don’t think I would have liked that.’ said Molly wrinkling her nose. ‘I never liked the sound of it. Row used to talk so fondly of the clubs and parties, but I was never convinced.’<br />‘It was a shame she stopped riding the Triumph.’ Eleanor said.<br />‘I don’t think anyone could blame her after the accident.’<br />‘I know most people would have been put off by it, but Row wasn’t most people. I was really surprised when she put it in the garage and covered it. Has it ever been out since?’<br />‘Not that I can remember.’ Molly drained her cup and put it back on the tray.<br />‘I suppose the car was more practical but she always said it wasn’t the same, but it was certainly safer though.’<br />‘I always suspected the damage to her back was more serious than she let on and that she couldn’t ride the bike rather than wouldn’t.’ Molly mused.<br />“Possibly. But she did ride the push bike; she wouldn’t have been able to do that if her back was that bad.<br />‘True. Oh! Do you remember when she put Pudding in the basket and rode into the village to the vets?’ Molly started to laugh again. ‘Why on earth didn’t she take the car?’<br />‘That would have been predictable wouldn’t it? And anyway he liked it. He went everywhere in the basket of that bike.’ Eleanor smiled at the memory.<br />‘And only Row would have been able to train a cat to do it, and after Pudding she got Boris to do it to.’ The two friends chuckled for the rest of the morning.<br /><br />From Mr Pengellan’s office to Mulberry cottage should only have taken half an hour, but Imogen decided to meander. Every nook and cranny was familiar and brought back memories of her childhood. She had started coming to stay with Rowena when she was six. Henry had suggested it as a way of getting a small child out of his hair for the endless weeks of the summer holidays. Rowena had been delighted. Never having had children, and never wanting them if she was honest, she liked to spend time with other peoples. Local people thought it strange that someone who was so good with children, and so loved by them, never had any of her own, but there were a lot of things about Rowena March that the locals could never fathom. So a terrified Imogen had been packed off to spend the summer with a relative stranger.<br />She could still remember being met at the station. To Cherith’s, and everyone else’s, horror Henry had sent his young daughter by train from London to Cornwall with one of the girls from the office, who abandoned her as soon as they set foot on the platform and went in search of the local young men, She had stood there looking helplessly about her when a tall, slim, breathtakingly beautiful woman with the longest blonde hair Imogen had ever seen, wearing the most unusual clothe she had ever seen, came up to her.<br />‘Hello Gin. I’m your aunt Rowena.’ It was the start of a relationship that would continue even after Rowena’s death.<br />Now Imogen drove slowly along the same lanes. On that first trip to Mulberry cottage they had gone in the car, but later she had been taken at high speed on the back of the Triumph. Imogen was amazed that so little had changed in all those years, how many years? Imogen counted them out. She had come here last when she was eleven, that last summer before the big row when the visits were stopped. That was fifteen years ago and yet the lanes and farms looked as if no time had passed at all. And Imogen herself started to feel as if time had not passed either. She had not grown fifteen years older, had not been married for six years, she was a carefree child again. Of course she knew it was not so, but for now she wallowed in the better parts of her past. She remembered taking Rowena’s hand and allowing herself to be put in the car and being driven to Mulberry cottage. She remembered pulling up by the gate and wondering where the house was, she remembered thinking that maybe her aunt didn’t live in a house at all but slept in the garden with the fairies, she had a thing about fairies at the time. The cottage was a surprise when she first saw it. She had been expecting a grand house. Instead there was a small, squat, pale pink building with large French windows that looked totally out of proportion, and no doors.<br />The first few days were awkward and strange, but Imogen quickly settled in and the rest of the summer had been the happiest time she had known up till then, not that she knew much at six. Every subsequent summer had been the same, and she had never wanted to go home. When she found out she was no longer to be allowed to go she had been devastated. To this day she still didn’t fully understand why her father had decided Rowena was such a bad influence, or what the row was really about. Rowena was different to Henry in just about every way, but surely that was not a good enough reason? Apparently it was though, no other exclamation was ever given, and so the summer’s in Cornwall came to an end.<br /><br />James sat in the back of the car for a few minuets before going into the office. The driver watched him in the mirror with great satisfaction at seeing his boss in such a state. Eventually James climbed out of the car and propelled his unwilling body towards the doors. He said nothing to his driver or the doorman or the receptionist, and they no longer bothered greeting him. In the lift he thought he was going to be sick again, he was sure his stomach had been left behind on the ground floor as he arrived on the third.<br />As he entered the conference room fell silent, all eyes were on him and he was more than aware that he did not look as good as he might. In fact he was looking dreadful, a fact that Henry noticed immediately, he bundled James out of the room.<br />‘Good God man, have you seen yourself? What the hell do you mean by arriving in this state? What’s going on?’ He said when he was sure they were out of ear shot.<br />‘I’m sorry Henry. I had a bad flight and an even worse night. But I have the presentation all ready and I think we ought to get that out of the way first.’<br />Henry glowered red with indignation but he agreed. ‘But you had better go and sort yourself out first.’<br />James went into the men’s room and took a long look at himself in the mirror, then wished he hadn’t. Henry was right, he looked shocking. After splashing a great deal of water over his face he started to look better, even if he didn’t feel it.<br />The presentation went as well as it could. He didn’t make too many mistakes and the didn’t ask too many awkward questions. He could tell by their faces they were not best pleased but they seemed to buy the story of jet lag and hard work, most suspected there had also been a large amount of alcohol involved but they didn’t ask why.<br />Henry waited until everyone had gone before allowing the full force of his displeasure to be unleashed.<br />‘If it had been anyone else you would have been out of the door you realise that? I will NOT tolerate this kind of thing from anyone, not even you. It was bloody unprofessional James and it made us look very bad. Some of those men are investing hundreds of thousands in the New York project and they expect more from us, and quite right. Now are you going to tell me what is going on?’<br />James sighed, Henry in full flow was hard to deal with at the best of times, you had to be quick to get anything past him and today James felt that was just not going to happen. <br />‘It’s nothing Henry. I had too much to drink on top of jet lag, fell asleep in the chair and didn’t have time for breakfast, that’s all.’ He knew Henry wouldn’t buy it.<br />He didn’t.<br />‘That’s not what I mean and you know it. What’s all this about my daughter?’<br /> It had been a mistake to mention anything just yet, not until he was sure there was something to mention. Henry would not let it drop and James knew he had to think.<br />‘I came home and she wasn’t there. That’s all. I had forgotten she was going away for a few days.’ It was weak.<br />Henry was not convinced, but he was not prepared to make a scene in the office over something personal, not with people listening, so he let it drop, for now. James knew the subject would be returned to but he was got away to his own office.<br /><br />Imogen finally pulled up by the familiar gate just before lunchtime. The trees had grown and the hedges were thicker but nothing else had changed. Opening the gate it made its familiar squeak, Rowena used to call it her door bell. Wandering idly up the path towards the cottage she stopped to touch this plant or smell that flower. On the corner of the last bend she saw the edge of the Mulberry tree. With every step more and more of it came into view until it was standing before her, its branches framing one side of the cottage. Around the bottom daisies were in full bloom and pocking out between them was the little brass plaque with the simple inscription of Rowena’s name and dates. She stopped to take it all in, but her thoughts were halted by the appearance of Molly and Eleanor from the cottage.<br />‘Ginny my dear!’ Eleanor flung her arms around Imogen and hugged her so hard Imogen feared for her ribs.<br />‘Oh look at you!’ Cried Molly following close behind. ‘You’re so tall!’<br />The two friends fussed and flapped, making Imogen feel like a child again. She was soon ensconced in one of the garden chairs with a cup of tea and a piece of cake.<br />‘So how was your journey?’ Molly asked.<br />‘Lovely. I mean, well…Yes I do mean lovely. It was so nice seeing everything again. The village looks just the same. Does anything ever change down here?’ she said laughing.<br />‘Not much. There are a few new houses here and there, and the shop has changed hands once or twice, but apart from that…’ Molly said.<br />‘There have been one or two scandals too. A few people running off with other people’s wives or husbands, that kind of thing.’ Eleanor gave Imogen a nudge with her elbow.<br />‘Ginny doesn’t want to hear about all that.’ Molly cut in disapproving.<br />‘I probably wouldn’t know who they all were now anyway.’ Imogen said.<br />Eleanor opened her mouth to say something else but stopped and sat staring at the hedge. She gave Molly a nudge and pointed. Molly followed Eleanor’s finger, gave a cry and sprang up.<br />‘Boris!’<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Chapter Six<br /><br />As soon as Molly and Eleanor had gone Imogen went back to the Mulberry tree. She stood underneath its canopy looking up through the braches to the sky like she used to as a child. If you got in the right spot you could watch the clouds slip past without the sun dazzling you. Sometimes she would lie down and spend hours there, just watching. Now she sat and pressed her back into the firm trunk. She looked down at the little brass plaque next to her. She put her hand out to touch it; but drew it away quickly as if it might scold her. She didn’t realise she was crying until she saw a tear drop into her lap. Watching as it socked into the fabric of her skirt turning it a deeper shade of blue. She put her hand to her face and felt her wet cheeks. She didn’t try to stop herself. She sat under the tree and gave in to the full force of her sobs. They came in overwhelming waves. Boris came across the lawn and quietly sat down next to her. He closed his eyes to the warm sunshine; he would wait until she was ready.<br /><br /> Imogen sat in the garden for a long time before she could bring herself to go indoors. Being back there without Rowena was almost too strange. Eventually she allowed Boris to lead her up to the cottage and she opened the windows. It was as it had always been. Rowena had never moved the furniture, the rooms were too small, and there were the worn patches on the rugs, a little more threadbare perhaps. Rowena always kept things in the same place because she didn’t see the point of moving something for the sake of it when it was perfectly happy where it was. As a result the whole cottage looked exactly the same as it had done on her last visit. Except the most important element was missing.<br /><br />By day three Imogen realised that the Mercedes was completely unsuitable and put an add in the paper. Later she had a look in the garage. There was the old VW beetle Rowena had bought when she started to get fed up with the cold and wet of the Cornish winter on the bike, and which she had used all the time after the accident. She also found the Triumph under its dust sheets. Imogen decided that could stay where it was.<br />Taking the car out for a tentative drive, just to see if it still went, she found it was more fun than anything else she had ever driven. It was noisy and the suspension was dreadful, but it made her feel safer than any of the big new cars James had bought her. He insisted they have a new car every two years so that he could have all the latest safety gadgets. The Beetle had no safety features, apart from the seat belt that stuck, and was completely gadget free, and it was wonderful. She carefully reversed it out of the garage and swung it into the lane. It certainly was different. She decided she would just take it as far as the end of the lane. At the end of the lane she decided she would take it as far as the crossroads. At the crossroads she decided she would take it as far as the lay by just as you came into the village. By the time she had got to the lay by she had decided she might as well go into the village, she needed milk anyway.<br /><br /><br />James spent every day growling at everybody who dared to get in his eye line. This was all just too ridicules, Imogen would be home when he got back tonight he was sure. At least she bloody well better be. It had been three days now. For the moment he was sticking to the story that she had gone away for a few days holiday, but he knew it was a rather shaky line to be taking and that people wouldn’t buy it much longer, especially if he couldn’t tell them any details. She hadn’t been the same since Rowena died. Why her aunts death should affect her when they hadn’t seen each other for years he couldn’t think. He shook his head; women had always been a mystery to him. When he met Imogen as a child she seemed so straightforward. She also seemed to know what was expected of her. He never had any trouble with her like Jonathan had had with Olwen. Not that he had much sympathy for his little brother. As far as James could see Jonathan was just too soft. He should have stood up to Olwen as soon as she started throwing her weight around. Instead Jonathan had given in, James had even caught him washing up! And now it was looking like James was going to have to get the marigolds out himself. Well he’d lived on his own before, and he’d managed perfectly well then. But his mother had still been alive and she had taken care of everything, found the cleaner and the gardener. She’d even found someone who would come twice a week to collect his laundry and return it dry-cleaned and ironed. James had no idea where all these people had come from and he hadn’t much cared. He was sure Olwen would know people like that. Surely she could organize all that for him? Well she’d just have to because he couldn’t do it, not with Henry breathing down his neck. Anyway it wouldn’t matter because Imogen would be home when he got back tonight and she would have taken care of everything.<br /><br />Imogen bumped the beetle back to Mulberry cottage and wondered if now would be a good time to call Cherith. Henry should be at work and she very much wanted to hear her mother’s voice. All week she’d been thinking about this phone call. She’d intended to make it as soon as she got there. But there was something about the sunshine, the blossom and the soft sea breeze that kept stalling her, that and the fear that Henry might answer the phone. However she had been gone three days now and she knew Cherith would be getting anxious about her. She also knew that her father would be putting her mother through hell. She needed to explain to Cherith, try to make her understand.<br />She waited until eleven, Henry would definatly be at the office by now. She crossed her fingers and diled.<br />‘Hello.’ Cherith’s neat and tidy voice answered.<br />Imogen started breathing again. ‘Hi mum.’<br />‘Imogen! Oh my God. Darling what on earth… I’ve been out of my mind. Oh thank God. You silly girl whatever have you done? Were are you?’<br />‘ Mum please. I’m fine. I’m at Mulberry cottage. Dad isn’t there is he?’<br />‘No darling he’s been gone hours. He’s been having to work full days to cope with James. Apparently he’s all over the place, not keeping up with his paperwork. Your father’s having to cover for him.’ Cherith was slightly breathless, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. All week she’d been worrying about her daughter and having to put up with Henry’s fumes. She’d been willing Imogen to call and let her know she was all right. Now she had she wanted to slap her face for the mess she’d left behind. I mean just leaving like that without a word. Imogen always told her everything and yet she hadn’t said anything, not even dropped hints.<br />‘I’m sorry dad’s been inconvenienced but you must understand that I had to leave.’<br />‘No I don’t understand. I know James can be difficult but to walk out on him like that, and while he was away to. Do you know what you’re throwing away? James may not be perfect but he did look after you. One thing I will always say about your father, he’s never denied me anything. I think you should come home darling.’<br />‘Well maybe I could have handled it better. But I couldn’t see another way at the time, and it’s done now. Mum please don’t hate me. I’m not as strong as you and I couldn’t spend the rest of my life like that.’ This was harder than she had thought. What was she supposed to say? How could she explain to her mother that she didn’t want to end up like her? ‘I just woke up mum, that’s all.’<br />‘You sound just like Rowena.’ Cherith sighed. ‘You always were more like her than Henry, I was always glad about that.’ she sighed again. ‘Oh darling are you sure you’re doing the right thing? Is this going to make you happy?’<br />‘I don’t know, but I need to try.’<br />‘Just promise you’ll keep in touch.’<br />‘Of course I will. We’ll need to talk about what you want from the house. And mum.’<br />‘Yes darling.’<br />‘Please don’t tell dad you’ve spoken to me. And don’t tell him where I am, not yet. Please?’<br />‘You know he’ll find out. But no, I won’t tell him.’<br />‘Thank you. Bye mum.’<br />‘Goodbye darling.’claire phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16313963622279623204noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5637493278275929558.post-72230591546591192192009-01-24T06:59:00.000-08:002009-01-24T07:03:11.134-08:00Mulberry Gin. Chapters Two and ThreeChapter Two<br /><br />The plane was late and the car that should have been there to meet him hadn’t waited. By the time James had given hell to some poor girl at the office and a car had finally arrived he felt raw and scratchy, the combination of a long flight and a little too much airline whisky. He fell into the car without a word, speech beyond him, and he was starting to wonder if he would ever be able to do anything again. He leaned back and closed his eyes begging for sleep; just a few minuets would make all the difference. But it was no use. Instead sleep was replaced by a creeping headache that started at the back of his neck and slowly worked its way round. Soon his whole head was impersonating a hammer drill. He would never drink spirits on a plane again he promised himself, but right now her could really do with another one.<br />The car pulled up outside the house. Imogen’s car was gone which blackened his mood even more. He expected her to be there when he got back from his trips, he needed her to be there, he couldn’t have a good moan to himself. He stumbled out of the car without even a glance at the driver. He knew the man would return to the office and complain about what a stuck up bastard Mr Lampress was. This gave him some small satisfaction, if he was in a crap mood he liked to pass some of it on.<br />The silence of the house when he opened the front door confirmed the Imogen’s absence. He’d have words when she got back. Dumping everything he was carrying in a heap at the foot of the stairs he picked up the post and flicked on the answer machine. He did this in an automatic, robotic movement, the same every time he came home, but today he was too tired to be interested. He started to sort through the letters, vaguely aware of a series of faceless, nameless voices talking at him.<br />He went into the kitchen for coffee. When he got there he remembered that he would have to make it himself. He slapped the pile of letters down on the counter. Muttering a string of four letter words he started to fill the kettle. When he put the kettle back on its stand and flicked it on he saw the pink envelope. He frowned. What was that doing there? It took his whisky and pain fuddled brain a minute to realise that it wasn’t one of the bundle he’d just brought through, and even longer to realise that it was addressed to him in his wife’s handwriting. He opened it rather absentmindedly, trying to spoon coffee into a mug with the other hand. Eventually he put it down, caffeine was more important than Imogen at that moment.<br />The coffee was too bitter and too hot but it hit the spot, he started to regain control of his body. He picked the letter up again and opened it properly. Something on the answer machine caught his ear and he dropped it down by the phone. After jotting down a few names and numbers he took the rest of the coffee with him upstairs, he needed a shower and to get out of the clothes he felt he had been wearing for a month.<br />He threw his clothes in the rough direction of the linen basket and went over to the mirror. He stood there for a few naked minuets. For forty six he was wearing remarkably well, no one could deny he could still hold his own. Tall and lean with just a dusting of light brown hair across his chest. His muscles were not as well defined as they were twenty years ago, but what do you expect? Nonetheless they were still there. And you could count the grey hairs on the fingers of one hand, and not just on his head. Yes, he thought, looking himself up and down, even with rapidly approaching jet lag and what was starting to feel like a hangover, he was still a good looking man. He made this inspection at least once a week, just to make sure he wasn’t letting anything go. He wasn’t vain, oh no, he never used conditioners or moisturisers or any of those dubious, supposedly masculine, products.<br />He gave himself a last approving look and went for his shower feeling much better. He shaved and dressed, then he got a clean shirt ready for the morning. He was so wrapped up in the reports he would have to write and the notes he had to sort through. He would be expected to give a full account of each meeting and seminar he had been involved in over the last three days. He lived for his work. It gave him a buzz that he could not describe, that no one else could possibly understand. By the time he went back downstairs he was buzzing all over and ready to tackle the pile of work waiting for him in his briefcase, everything else forgotten.<br />The briefcase had landed near the little hall table. He gathered it up he noticed the half opened pink envelope. Imogen’s letter, of course. Well he supposed he had better read it. He yanked the page from the envelope, impatient to get on with some work. Still standing in the hall he started to read.<br /><br />Dear James,<br />I hope you had a successful trip and a good flight. I’m sorry I’m not there to hear all about it( I should bloody well think so, ) but I have gone away (excuse me? ) I have spent a long time agonizing over the best way to tell you this, but the fact is there isn’t one, and I think you would rather I was honest.<br />I have left you James.<br /><br />He stopped and started again from the beginning. Now he read each word very carefully<br /><br />I hope this does not sound to cold and hard. I don’t know if you have been aware that I have not been happy for a long time. I felt the time had come to do something about it.<br />I hope you won’t miss me too much. As you may have noticed my things have gone.<br /><br />He looked around but could see nothing missing.<br /><br />I have only taken the things that actually belonged to me and I won’t be demanding half the contents of the house or anything. I hope I have left everything as it was before I came to live there.<br />I hope one day we will learn to forgive each other. (forgive him for what?)<br />Goodbye and good luck.<br />Imogen.<br /><br />He stood for what seemed like a very long time without moving. His mind was racing around at great speed. In his hands was a letter from his wife apparently informing him that she had left him, but how could that be? What possible reason had she to leave him? Him for goodness sake! He dashed upstairs and nearly took the wardrobe doors off their hinges to get them open. She was right, it had all gone. He went into the bathroom and scanned the shelves, gone. He pulled open all her draws, gone. What the hell was going on here? How had he not noticed? He looked at his watch, eleven thirty. He wondered how long she had been gone. Had she just left or did she go as soon as she knew he was safely on the plane? And where had she gone? And why did it matter so much?<br /><br />Eleven thirty. Imogen had been going for an hour or so and decided she needed a cup of tea and the ladies. She was also starting to wonder why James liked motorways so much. Her neck and shoulders were stiff and she had to wriggle her fingers to make sure they were still there. A sign told her she was coming up to a service station so she reluctantly decided to stop. They were always such large places with so many people. She looked around blankly. She had never done anything like this on her own before and she quickly realised she didn’t even know which queue to join. Her stomach knotted up and a nagging voice started to whisper softly, ‘what are you doing?’<br />With shaking hands she got her tea and managed to take it over to a small table tucked away in the corner by the window. She sat down and took a deep breath. She allowed the chatter and noise going on around her to drown out the little voice, she got the map out. Days ago she had planned the route, highlighting the motorway and all the main roads she needed to take. Now she started looking again at the B roads. They went through some lovely sounding places. It would take her longer but she could stop and have a good look round, maybe even stay overnight, James would never have allowed that. With a quiet smile she sipped her tea.<br /><br />James took the letter with him into the study. He kept a tight grip on it while he poured himself a large drink. By the time he had finished his second and taken the third with him to slump in his chair it was no longer recognisable. He looked down at the ball of pink paper in his fist. He unfurled it and smoothed it out on his knee. He started to read it and re-read it, hoping he would find something in it that told him it was all a joke and that she would be home soon. What the hell was she doing? How was this going to look? His wife walking out on him without him even getting a hint of anything wrong was not going to show him in his best light, and a lot of people trusted him with a lot of their money. Hell! He hurled the glass at the wall and watched with satisfaction as it shattered and the glass flew across the carpet, the golden liquid trickled down the wall, he knew it would stain and he was glad.<br />After another glass he could no longer tell what he was drinking. He read the letter again. He was jet lagged and drunk and no matter how hard he tried he could not make the words make sense. He tried to recall the last six years. He screwed his face up and thought hard. She had everything. She wanted it he bought it, she only had to ask. Not that she ever asked for much, it had surprised him at first; he had always been led to believe that a much younger wife would require large amounts lavishing on her. Imogen had proved to be remarkably inexpensive. Eventually he stopped thinking and decided to settle down and finish the bottle while he waited for her to come home.<br /><br /><br />Chapter Three<br /><br />Molly turned the key with a shaking hand; she had never known the French windows to be locked. Eleanor was late and Molly hadn’t wanted to do this alone. With a sigh she stepped softly into the sitting room, the sunlight followed her and lit up every corner. Rowena had loved this tiny room so much. But she was not going to cry, she had promised herself, she had promised Rowena. And her first priority was to Boris, Rowena’s cat.<br />No one had seen him since the day Rowena died. He had stayed on the bed with her once the doctor had confined her there, hardly ever leaving, until the moment she died. When he got off the bed and quietly crept from the room they knew. Molly, Eleanor and the nurse were in the sitting room when they saw him slip out into the garden; no one had seen him since. Every evening Eleanor or herself would put food out for him and every morning it was gone, but no one ever saw him. She went to have another look this morning, no food and no cat. While she was wandering around calling him she heard the gate squeak and saw Eleanor coming up the path.<br />‘Still nothing?’ Eleanor called.<br />Molly shook her head. ‘I hope he hasn’t gone for good, you hear such stories.<br />‘I wouldn’t worry too much. He must be about, the food’s gone again.’<br />‘But we don’t know that it’s Boris eating it. It could be a fox or something. And Imogen’s due soon. Oh dear.’ Molly was starting to work herself up.<br />‘He’ll be home when he’s ready.’ Eleanor said. ‘And we have too much to do at the moment. We’ll look later.’<br />Molly and Eleanor went back towards the cottage. Going in through the windows Rowena came out to meet them in a waft of familiar smells.<br />‘We have to do this.’ Eleanor said to a wobbly looking Molly. ‘We promised.’<br />‘But it’s so hard.’ Molly wailed.<br />‘I know. But we’re getting it ready for Gin.<br />‘Yes. For Gin.’ Molly let out a deep sigh and together they entered the room they had spent so much time in.<br />The cottage was in mourning. There was no furniture, instead white, mountainous lumps filled the rooms and the whole place looked deeply offended at being abandoned.<br />“Come on let’s get started.” Eleanor took hold of the corner of one of the dust sheets and threw it into the air with a theatrical flourish. Molly lifted her sheet more cautiously but between them they soon had everything uncovered. The sitting room started to look as it had always done, which only reinforced the feeling that something vital was missing.<br /><br />‘BLOODY HELL!’ Henry thundered. ‘How DARE she, how BLOODY dare she!’ He shook the letter accusingly at Cherith, blaming the woman present for the deed of the one who wasn’t. His anger had rooted him to the middle of the kitchen floor and he was starting to turn a rather alarming colour.<br />‘What on earth’s the matter?’ Cherith had been trapped by the sink when Henry had come thundering in with the letter from Rowena’s solieter, she kept her distance, knowing what this spectacle meant.<br />‘Rowena. That bitch of a sister. Look at this, just look.’ He thrust the offending piece of paper at his wife. Calmly she took it and started reading. She had been expecting something like this. It was from Rowena via Mr Pengellen, It explained very carefully, honestly, and rather rudely why her brother was not in her will. Henry had been waiting for weeks to hear from him and had had several angry phone calls demanding to know what was going on. It was just like Rowena to make him wait.<br />‘Well you can’t be too surprised.’ Cherith said handing it back. ‘You must have known she wouldn’t leave you anything.’<br />‘That’s not the point. I’m her next of kin. I’m entitled.’ he spat.<br />Cherith sighed. ‘Well it looks as if she didn’t seem to think so. And she can leave it all to whom ever she chooses.’ Over the years she had decided that it was best to adopt the same attitude to her husband as she did to small children.<br />‘But who else is there? That was family money, from our father, and it should stay in the family. God alone knows what she’s done with it. Some stranger is going to get their hands on my fathers’ money. Well I’m not having it.’<br />‘No dear.’<br /><br />Stow-on-the-Wold was beautiful, why had James never tried getting off the motorway? Imogen passed a small car park and pulled in. She was making an unscheduled stop on an unplanned route, whatever next? She felt a strange sense of liberation at this small act of defiance.<br />A few minuets looking around the shops turned into several hours. When she looked at her watch she realised that she would never get to Cornwall before dark. However brave she was feeling she was not brave enough to tackle a long journey in the dark. As she was thinking this she walked past a very nice looking hotel. With only the smallest hesitation she went in and asked if they had a room for the night.<br /><br />The room was perfect. Luxurious without being ostentatious, comfortable without being indulgent. Her cases had been sent up to her room while she moved her car to the security of the residents’ car park. Finding things had taken time, she had not packed with the intention of stopping anywhere. Eventually she had found what she needed, and she took her wash bag with her into the en suite and started to run hot water into the very deep and inviting bath. Her baths were one thing James never complained about, although he never understood the desire to spend an hour up to your neck in bubbles. The water was hot and the bath foam had made a delicious head of soft, creamy froth. She sank down deep into it and closed her eyes.<br />A picture of the house and James came into her mind. How had he reacted? Would he have cared? He should care, she thought, but it would make life much simpler if he would just shrug his shoulders and carry on. Her vanity wanted him to be upset, even if it was only a little bit, but she didn’t like the idea of him suffering. At the same time she didn’t like the idea of him not being affected at all.<br />Then there was her father. She had been trying very hard not to think about Henry. She knew he had been on at Rowena’s solicitor asking why he had not been contacted about the will. By now he was sure to have found out he was not in it. It didn’t take too much imagination to picture his reaction. She pitted her poor mother, especially when he found out that Cherith was to be left something. Not that he would want anything to remind him of his sister, all he would want was the money and she, Imogen, had got that. How he would take that news she dreaded to think.<br />Her bath over she dressed and made herself up carefully. James had always liked her to be well presented, and insisted she went to the hairdressers every week. Although she would have loved to go down to the dining room in her jeans she knew it was not appropriate, and she did like to look nice sometimes.<br /><br />The dining room was rather larger that she had been expecting and she had second thoughts as she stood and waited for someone to attend to her. Everyone would be looking at her, a woman on her own, she would stick out like a saw thumb. What would they think of her? The waiter seemed to be taking forever to get over to her and her nerve was starting to fail. She was just deciding that the room service menu was quite appealing after all when he came and showed her to her table. The small table was towards the back of the room and near the corner, she could have kissed him. No one would notice her there. She ordered a glass of Chardonnay and started to read the menu.<br />When the waiter came back she hesitated for a moment waiting for James to order for both of them as usual. A small thrill went through her as she realised she could order just what she liked. After another glance at the menu she went for the shell on prawns in garlic butter ( “too messy and sticky, not the sort of thing to eat in public, not to mention the reek of garlic“) and the roast cod (“ you shouldn’t have fish for the main course when you’ve already had it as a starter“), she ordered another glass of wine (“it’s never nice to see women drinking too much in public“) and she determined to have desert (“perhaps best not, we don’t want you getting fat now do we.”). It was all fantastically delicious and she savoured every mouthful. She ordered a third glass of wine and a second helping of chocolate soufflé.claire phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16313963622279623204noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5637493278275929558.post-74583424863831284942009-01-22T06:32:00.000-08:002009-01-22T06:33:51.648-08:00Mulberry Gin. Chapter One.MULBERRY GIN<br /><br /><br /><br /> Chapter One<br /> <br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br /> 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.<br /> 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.<br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /> 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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />‘I’m glad you could both come’ she said finally, breaking the silence.<br />‘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.<br />‘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.<br />Rowena pulled her face back into a serious expression.<br />‘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.<br />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.<br />‘Before I tell you anything I need you to promise that you will listen and not get excited and interrupt.’<br />‘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.<br />‘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.’<br /> 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.<br />‘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.<br />‘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.<br />‘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.’<br />‘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.<br />‘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.<br />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.<br /> 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.<br />‘Here we are.’ Rowena once again poured out the tea and handed it round. She gave them a reassuring smile.<br />‘So what do you want us to do?’ asked Eleanor.<br /><br />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.<br />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. <br />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.<br /><br />‘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.’<br />‘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.’<br />‘Oh Row please don’t.’ Molly started to snivel again.<br />Rowena decided to leave her to it and turned to Eleanor.<br />‘What I would like you two to do is get the cottage ready for Gin, and look after her when she moves in.’<br />‘You’ve lost me dear.’ Eleanor frowned. ‘I don’t understand, why would Imogen be coming to live here?’<br />‘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.’<br />She was so matter of fact, so sure of what she was saying, that it took Molly and Eleanor aback.<br />‘Rowena! That’s dreadful.’ Molly was so shocked that she stopped snivelling and nearly chocked on her hankie. ‘You can’t do that!’<br />‘I must say I agree dear.’ Eleanor said more calmly. ‘What makes you think she will want to leave James?’<br />‘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.’<br />‘And…um…what if she doesn’t want to leave?’ Molly was almost afraid to ask.<br />‘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.’<br />‘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.<br />‘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.’<br />‘Oh Row.’ Molly sighed and sank back in her chair. It was no use arguing with Rowena when she had made her mind up.<br />‘Is that all you want us to do? ‘Eleanor asked, she too knew it was no use arguing.<br />‘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.’<br />‘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.<br />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.<br />‘Good God Molly!’ Rowena exclaimed. ‘At our age who the hell cares about being moral?’ And they all burst out laughing.claire phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16313963622279623204noreply@blogger.com6