Friends and Secrets Page 9

  Concentrating on instructing Justin might be why Rupert failed to notice Joanne on her way home.

  Joanne had realized that Meriel was upset by her ex-husband’s visit and had left earlier than intended. She was also feeling a bit guilty at having left her boys on their own for the first time. When the car passed her she only glanced at it. It was Jeremy in the back seat who recognized her. Putting his foot down, Rupert drove back to Joanne’s house faster than he had driven before. He parked in the exact spot where they had found the car and, glowing with the excitement of near discovery, pushed Jeremy and Justin into their house.

  ‘As long as she doesn’t touch the bonnet and realize it’s warm we’ll be all right,’ he said gleefully, as the three of them hurried away through the darkness, giggling like conspirators.

  When Joanne entered, she found her boys in bed and deeply asleep. A touch of a cover might have revealed that they were fully dressed, but she only opened the doors and glanced at the two shapes before going downstairs again.

  The boys were eating breakfast the following morning and Joanne was washing dishes when John arrived with a suitcase and an assortment of parcels.

  ‘John, darling! I didn’t expect you until this evening.’

  ‘An appointment was cancelled, and an assistant who had given notice decided not to leave after all, so I had the morning free and drove back through the night. Breakfast then bed, I think,’ he said after greeting the two boys and handing them each some chocolate.

  When the boys had left for school, John pointed to the parcels. ‘There are a few presents for the boys,’ he said as he finished the meal she had made for him. ‘What do we do about their main presents, any ideas?’

  ‘Well, with the skiing trip in February we can’t give them anything too expensive, can we?’

  ‘What skiing trip?’ he demanded.

  ‘Didn’t I tell you?’ she asked innocently. ‘Surely I did.’

  ‘No you didn’t. You know damned well this is the first I’ve heard of it. They can’t go.’

  ‘It’s only Jeremy, Justin isn’t old enough and it’s too late, I’ve already told him he can. And, I’ve managed to find the money for the deposit.’

  ‘Cancel it. We can’t afford it and he isn’t going.’

  ‘But John, we can’t do that. He’d be so upset. D’you know he hid the paper, he wasn’t going to tell me — us, worried that we couldn’t afford it.’

  ‘He was right, we can’t.’

  ‘But we have to. This time we have to.’ She rarely stood up to his arguments about money, but this time, having stolen from a friend to pay the deposit, she had to persuade him to pay the rest of the money. To do such a thing was bad enough, but to have done such a wicked thing for nothing, would be impossible to live with. She would have to stop going to Churchill’s Garden, avoid all her friends. She wouldn’t be able to visit Meriel again. No cinema trips, no social life at all. John couldn’t do it to her, she wouldn’t let him win. Not this time.

  She stood up and stared at him, her eyes steady as she held his gaze. ‘John, however you get the money, whatever you have to do to get it, Jeremy is going on that school trip. Do you understand?’ She was shaking when she walked into the kitchen, and as she heard him run up the stairs to their room she began to cry.

  Then she rang Cynthia and asked her to cancel the dinner for that evening, she was feeling ill and thought it might be flu.

  * * *

  In Churchill’s Garden a few days later, Cath was sitting at her usual small table. Her eyes never left her newspaper but Joanne knew she was aware of their arrival. Rather half—heartedly she invited her to join them but Cath smiled, thanked her and declined. Irritated, Joanne pushed past her and went to their usual table in the corner from where they could look out at the bleak winter garden beyond the glass doors. She didn’t want company herself today but had made herself come. Anything to get out of the house and away from the worry about the money she needed and which, so far, John had refused to give her.

  Meriel and Cynthia came in together, Cynthia having been to look at clothes for the holiday period and a few last minute gifts, and Meriel to keep her company. Cath turned and smiled at Meriel and giving in to her persuasion, agreed to share their table. Coffees were brought and a dish of scones stood in the centre of the table.

  ‘No work this morning?’ Meriel asked Cath.

  ‘I didn’t like the two men in Gregory Way.’ She shuddered. ‘There were women there some mornings, the last time they were very young girls. I couldn’t cope with that so I left. So, there’s only Tom and Ray twice a week.’

  ‘They are all right are they? Pay you well and not much trouble?’ Vivienne asked. There was an expression on her face that Meriel couldn’t read.

  ‘Do you know them?’ Meriel asked.

  ‘I used to know Tom but I haven’t met his brother,’ she said and quickly changed the subject before Meriel could ask why she hadn’t mentioned it before.

  ‘I’ll let you know if I hear of anyone needing a bit of cleaning done,’ Helen promised Cath. ‘We pick up all sorts of information in the shop, so I’ll keep an ear wagging.’

  ‘Don’t you always?’ Vivienne teased.

  Christmas again became the main discussion, each of them talking over their plans.

  ‘The boys are growing up and only want clothes,’ Joanne said.

  ‘Mine too,’ Cynthia agreed, ‘Except darling Marcus. He wants a book on insects and a new bicycle.’

  ‘My boys still want toys,’ Helen said. ‘William is twelve and George is ten. But Henri wants clothes, the skimpier the better.’

  Only Cath was quiet.

  ‘Are you planning to go away?’ Vivienne asked her.

  Cath shook her head. ‘No, I’ve nothing planned at all.’

  Vivienne looked at Joanne and began to ask, ‘You couldn’t look after Toby for me this evening, could you — I was hoping to…’ she stopped seeing from Joanne’s expression that the answer would be a refusal. ‘No, I can see it isn’t convenient.’

  Meriel explained that she had a prior engagement and Vivienne turned to a startled Cath. ‘Could you look after Toby for me?’ she asked.

  Cath jumped up and glared at Vivienne in horror. ‘How can you ask me? You don’t know me! You can’t tell whether or not I’m a suitable person to care for your child. How can you be so careless of his safety!’

  ‘Cath?’ Meriel frowned. ‘I think I know you well enough to know you’d be an ideal person to look after Toby.’

  ‘You don’t know me at all!’ she shouted, glaring angrily at Vivienne. ‘You invite me to sit and chat and pass an idle hour and think because you know my name and I take my turn at buying the coffee, that I’m decent and reliable and a suitable person to trust your beautiful and precious child to?’ She banged her half empty cup on the table and ran out into the street, shouting, ‘You don’t deserve to have a child!’

  Meriel ran after her but when she reached the street there was no sign of her among the shoppers milling around the pavement. Forgetting her own intended purchases, she hurried home.

  Getting into her car she drove up to the small chalet where Cath had made her home, but although she waited for almost an hour, her friend didn’t appear. Leaving a note asking her to call, she drove home.

  Six

  Vivienne was shaken by Cath’s outburst. She knew she was careless about Toby but, she told herself, nothing dreadful had happened to him, most people were genuine.

  ‘There’s no point in worrying about what fills the newspapers,’ she defended herself to Cynthia. ‘The chance of someone harming Toby is so slight it isn’t worth thinking about. People are decent and if they don’t want to look after him they say so. Those who do are kind people who love children. It stands to reason.’

  Cynthia said nothing for a while then said slowly, ‘I suppose, by some standards I’ve been neglectful of Rupert, Oliver and Marcus. I leave them with Millie quite a lot, and although it’s part
of her job to keep an eye on them, I wouldn’t leave them with her unless I completely trusted her. We can’t allow a few dangerous people to run our lives.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Vivienne agreed.

  ‘I’ve never been an over—anxious mother. I work really hard for several charities, especially for those involved with children’s welfare. I simply couldn’t do all the work I do if I’d been a mother hen and one chick type of mother, could I?’

  ‘My reasons aren’t so noble,’ Vivienne sighed. ‘I just like to go out. I like the cinema, I enjoy the atmosphere in a decent pub and I love dancing to good modern music. I expected to give up those things when I married but now, with no marriage and no serious relationship, I couldn’t stand being home night after night on my own. I think I’m a better mother to Toby for escaping like I do.’

  ‘You’re probably right,’ Cynthia agreed.

  ‘I’ll have Toby for you,’ Helen offered. ‘Reggie won’t mind, he likes children and he’ll enjoy amusing him.’

  Vivienne looked thoughtful and Cynthia also had a slight frown on her carefully made-up face.

  ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t…’

  ‘Your house or ours?’ Helen insisted.

  When Helen had gone, Cynthia and Vivienne sat quietly for a long time. Eventually, Cynthia asked, ‘This marriage of yours, what happened?’

  ‘It’s difficult to explain. There was Toby you see and…’ Vivienne waited for Cynthia to come to her own conclusion.

  ‘You didn’t really love each other, and Toby was the reason you married?’

  ‘Something like that. Now!’ Vivienne said. ‘I have to pick the boy wonder up from nursery in half an hour, but first, some shopping. Will you come with me and help me choose a dress for tonight?’

  Cynthia understood that the subject was closed.

  * * *

  Cath hadn’t gone home when she had run out of Churchill’s Garden. She had driven out of town without a clear idea of where she was going. She was simply getting away from her stupid outburst. What business was it of hers how Vivienne chose to look after Toby? What made her set herself up as an expert on raising children? Angrily, she rubbed away insistent tears.

  Driving around the lanes, her first thoughts were that she couldn’t go back to Churchill’s Garden. No more trips to antique fairs with Meriel, no more pleasant mornings searching through car boot sales and looking through the fascinating assortment offered on table top stalls. Slowly, she had been beginning to accept the casual meetings with Cynthia, Joanne. Vivienne and Helen too, slowly beginning to make a life in Abertrochi. Now, with that stupid outburst, she had lost it.

  Returning to the town by a different route she saw the huge sign advertising a toy store and again without fully clarifying her thoughts, she parked and went inside. She began to feel tears threaten again as she walked along the aisles and studied what was on offer. There was a familiar tightening of her throat and a stinging behind her eyes. She almost ran out, but stopped herself. This was the opportunity to make a proper apology and get back what she had almost thrown away.

  Struggling to the car a few minutes later, she put the large box into the boot and drove towards the road where Vivienne lived. She had insisted on the assistant opening the box and making sure the toy was complete. She had always hated to see a child unpack a long awaited parcel then have to wait longer for someone to put the thing together.

  There was no reply when she knocked at Vivienne’s door. The quiet road was bereft of passers-by. Neat curtains hid neat little rooms and in the neat front gardens there wasn’t a sign of a living, breathing human being. She was not the only person to live in isolation. Even in a group of houses like this, a person could be lonely, she mused sadly, remembering her mother’s stories about the friendliness of neighbours and going out together on enormous picnics to the beach. It was an uncaring world today where people only did a kindness for the glory and praise.

  She knocked again and when there was nothing but the echo of the sound, she was tempted to go away and forget it. But no. She had run away too often in the past and it was time to stand still.

  She sat in the car for an hour, then saw Vivienne’s car turn into the road. Getting out she waited at the end of the drive while Vivienne drove in and parked. Lifting up the box she heaved it out of the boot and walked towards the little boy.

  ‘Toby? I have a present for you. Not Christmas, it’s too early for that and not your birthday, it’s just for being a lovely little boy.’

  Any uneasiness she felt having to face Vivienne after her inexplicable behaviour was quickly dispelled as the excited little boy opened the flaps of the box and stared in undisguised delight at the sit-on tractor. Vivienne’s thanks were brushed aside as Cath explained,

  ‘I was in a depressed mood this morning, I didn’t mean any of it and in any case, I don’t have the right to criticize you. Toby is a happy, well-adjusted child and you should be very proud of him — and of yourself.’

  Vivienne was embarrassed both by Cath’s apology and by the size of her gift. She thanked her, admired the tractor then suggested inanely, ‘Cup of tea?’

  ‘No thanks, I have to get back. I need to see Meriel and try to explain my dreadful behaviour to her too.’

  As she drove past the estate close to the cliffs and parked outside Meriel’s door, Cath felt light-hearted. Somehow the morning’s hysterical outpourings and the following apology had lified a burden from her. She smiled when Meriel opened the door and said, ‘I can’t really explain how or why, but I needed that. Will you forgive me?’

  ‘It’s forgotten,’ Meriel hugged her and invited her inside. The only comment she made was an assurance that they need never refer to it again, ‘But,’ she added, taking Cath’s shawl and offering her a seat, ‘If ever you want to talk, in confidence, I’m here. Will you remember that?’

  Sinking into armchairs facing each other across the hearth, they began making plans for the sales they would attend during the following week. With the approach of Christmas there was a spate of such events and they were determined to attend as many as possible, sometimes separating so they didn’t miss anything when two were taking place at the same time.

  * * *

  On the weekend following Cath’s outburst, Vivienne had been invited to a party. Meriel had agreed to look after Toby and keep him overnight. The small third bedroom was full of boxes which Meriel had half-heartedly begun to pack ready for the move she would one day have to face. Normally she had the little boy in her room in a small foldaway bed, but something made her want to make an effort. Maybe the approach of Christmas.

  She decorated the plain walls with a few bright posters. After dragging a small armchair up the stairs, she called at the charity shop where Joanne worked and bought a few toys, which she washed and then used to fill the armchair and a small pine box. Looking around she smiled with pleasure. Everything was in readiness for her small visitor. Toby would be sure to feel welcome.

  Vivienne had arranged to bring Toby at six and long before the appointed time Meriel sat and waited, excited at the prospect of Toby’s surprise, but they didn’t arrive. Meriel telephoned and, at eight o’clock, she drove up to Vivienne’s house and knocked. There was no reply and, puzzled, she drove back home.

  She tried phoning several times that evening and again the following day but failed to contact her friend. Cynthia and Joanne knew nothing of her plans and even Helen, who bore the nickname, ‘fount of all knowledge‘ couldn’t shed light on the mystery.

  It was midday on Monday before an apologetic Vivienne arrived and gave a very incomplete excuse.

  ‘Sorry, sorry, sorry,’ she said as she burst into the kitchen. ‘My weekend was changed at the last minute and I had to go away. I know I should have phoned but, well, didn’t get the chance.’

  Toby climbed unaided out of the car, where Vivienne had left him in her haste to explain. Meriel said, ‘Go and look in the back bedroom, Toby, it’s all ready for when you come and stay with me.�
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  His little fat legs took him step by step up the stairs and he disappeared into the room.

  ‘Well, Vivienne? What’s the real story? Are you in trouble?’

  ‘No trouble. Something came up that I couldn’t refuse and there wasn’t a phone and…’ She gabbled on, talking but without saying much and Meriel sighed and interrupted, saying,

  ‘All right, I don’t want to know if you don’t want to tell me. But next time something irresistible comes up, will you please let me know?’

  ‘I promise. And, before you ask, Toby was with me. I didn’t dump him on someone I hardly know. You can tell Cath if she asks.’

  They didn’t stay. Toby climbed into his car seat carrying a gaudy green teddy and with small cars filling his pockets, content with his brief visit and unaware of the friction between his mother and one of his ‘aunties’.

  Angry with Vivienne for messing up her weekend and not even giving her a satisfactory explanation as to why, Meriel decided to go and do some work in the Harris brothers’ garden. She thought some strenuous work would help rid her of her irritation. As usual, she knocked as soon as she arrived but, as usual, the house was empty.

  She went to the shed and gathered the tools she would need for clearing out an overgrown pond she had discovered. She began pulling at tough old grasses, irises and other pond plants, having first loosened their roots with a fork. She worked steadily, discarding her gloves in frustration so that she could finger her way through the overgrown tangle, gradually clearing the round edges of the cement pool and exploring its depth. Deep enough for fish, she decided when she had reached the bottom. She would leave a note for Tom and ask him if he would like to restore it and fill it with water.

  Her back was beginning to ache so she used the key Tom had given her — it was too cold to use the shed in winter — to let herself into the kitchen. Washing her hands and allowing the hot water to run over them to ease the stinging of a dozen cuts and grazes, she stared out at the garden. Since she had started coming, it was beginning to open up. The lawn was still patchy but the mosses and the determined plantains and dandelions had almost given up. Flower-beds were clear and ready for spring planting. Soon the pond would be revealed. This evening she would study the gardening year book she had bought and later, discuss with Tom what they should buy for the borders and beds. They had already planted a hundred bulbs. She would be sorry to leave it behind when she moved away and found herself a proper, full-time occupation, she thought sadly.