Lying in Wait (24 page)

Knowing
the truth has finally given me some … I’m not quite sure what the word is. Relief? Not peace of mind, because that is a different thing altogether. I am deeply disturbed by my mother’s mental state and her role in Annie’s life and death. I can’t stop thinking of what my father did. I am sickened that I must keep this secret from Karen for the rest of my life, but Mum has agreed to see a psychiatrist and has finally accepted that I have moved out of home. I think telling the truth may have helped her. Despite everything, she is my mother. She did love and nurture me, and I am in some way obligated to her. I will not throw her to the wolves, and maybe these disclosures might bring her some peace and stability. She has no more secrets, nothing more to hide.

With hindsight and a little distance, I can see how obsessed she has been with me for my whole life, and I wonder when that love became deranged. I’m inclined to believe that it happened after Dad died, when she knew for sure that she would never have another child. Helen was right about Mum all along. But I feel sorry for her, for both of us, because I was never enough for her. I wonder would things have been different if she’d had another child, or if she simply always wanted a relationship as close as the one she must have shared with Diana.

My mother has been at least indirectly responsible for the deaths of two people, not including my father. Living with that knowledge is my albatross, but I cannot put her through a murder trial. It would most certainly kill her, and there has been enough death.

After Christmas, I am going to see a specialist about my weight. I have been drugged for two years. I suppose Mum thought she was helping me, and maybe I should be grateful, but I am angry with her for not telling me. She was so determined to control me. I am back to taking the tablets to get my weight down as soon as possible. Consequently, I am buzzing with energy again and rarely sleep. I’m only doing this for the short term, just until I can see a dietician. Karen is delighted that I am in better form, that I am out running every morning before work and that I cycle halfway to and from the office. She hasn’t ever mentioned my size, but it cannot be attractive and I don’t want to give her any further reason to question our relationship. Last Friday, in the pub, Dominic nudged her and pointed at me, saying ‘Beauty and the Beast, know what I mean?’

We are going to dinner together at Mum’s for the first time next week. I have rung Mum several times to make sure that she hasn’t changed her mind and that she will not be weird with Karen. I dared not tell Mum that Karen is married. One step at a time. But Mum’s mood is much improved too. She says that she is looking forward to the dinner and that she has been poring over recipe books to make sure that the meal is perfect. I’m trying not to let Karen know how nervous I am about this meeting. They will either get on or they won’t, but the truth is if Mum forces me to choose, I will choose Karen.

When
Laurence told me that his mother had invited me for dinner, I knew that it was a big deal for him. And it was a big deal for me too. I was terrified of a woman I had never met, but Laurence seemed a lot better after that visit to his ma. I was so glad that I made him go. He started exercising again, dumped the junk food and suddenly he was more energetic, cleaning up the cottage and making proper plans for its renovation. He lifted out of his depression quickly, and I wondered if this was how it was going to be between us. If Laurence was prone to bouts of depression, I decided that I would be willing to stand by him. Nobody understood me like Laurence did. He had my best interests at heart. Laurence was supportive of whatever decisions I made. He was not jealous or small-minded. He made me a better version of myself. I wanted to make him happy. In bed on the morning of the dinner, I very tentatively asked Laurence if he thought it would be a good idea if I moved in with him. I stumbled over the words, knowing that, traditionally, it would be the man who asks this question, but I wanted to demonstrate my commitment to him.

He grinned at me.

‘Yes! Yes, of course. I was going to ask you, but I was afraid that I’d scared you off. That’s what I want too, to live with you officially. I’d marry you if divorce was legal –’ He stopped, shy suddenly. ‘I mean, if you said yes, obviously.’

‘I’d say yes.’ I moved my head on to his pillow and kissed his mouth, and he kissed me back with a slow sweet passion
and that turned into a kind of lovemaking that was more tender than ever before.

Later, as we prepared to go to his mother’s house, I dressed very carefully. It was cold, early December. I had received a big cheque during the week from Yvonne with a note attached, advising me of a designer’s sample sale in the Westbury Hotel. I arranged to meet her there. She knew a little about my relationship with Laurence. She hadn’t met him, but when I told her of his mother’s dinner invitation to Avalon and her address, she seemed pleased but sounded a warning.

‘If I can give you any advice, dear, I would suggest that you should not go where you don’t belong. It rarely works out.’

I laughed at her. ‘But it’s worked out for you.’

‘My life is a pretence. I would not recommend it for everyone, and I’ve grown fond of you,’ she said, lighting a long cigarette.

There was a touch of sadness about the way she said it, and I thought of her poor dead son and the fact that she had never mentioned him since the day we discussed Annie’s murder.

At the sale, she picked a silk and wool-mix dress in a shade of emerald green for me. I pointed to my hair. She threw her eyes up to heaven in an exaggerated look of exasperation. Yvonne was not a devotee of the ‘red and green should never be seen’ idea which had most fashion houses dressing me in whites, blues and russet tones.

‘Nonsense. Try it on.’ And I did and it was perfect.

Laurence answered his door and said, ‘Wow.’

‘Do you think she’ll approve?’

‘It doesn’t matter whether she does or not.’

I hoped it was true. We had arranged to go to Avalon together. Laurence drove. He was quiet on the journey.

‘Well, at least give me some dos and don’ts,’ I said.

‘Nope. I don’t want you to have to pretend, but try not to say “fuck”,’ he said, smiling.

‘Like Helen?’ We laughed.

When we drove up the long driveway to the house, I caught my breath. It was a mansion from the front, but as we drove around the side of the house to park beside a garage, I could see that it was twice as long as it was wide.

‘Oh my God.’

‘It’s just a house.’ He squeezed my hand.

‘But it’s –’

‘Just a house,’ he whispered, and put a finger to my lips. I kissed it.

I could see a shape through the windows and it moved as we walked around the outside to the front door. She got there before us and held the door wide open.

‘Welcome, welcome!’

She was extremely classy-looking. I had come across some older models of around Laurence’s mum’s age on assignments, but the years had touched Mrs Fitzsimons very lightly, with just a few strands of grey at her temples and some faint lines around her bright blue eyes. She was tall and very slim, and only slightly stooped in the shoulders. She had dressed simply in a black cashmere dress and a long string of pearls.

She smiled at me broadly. ‘I am so glad to finally meet you, Karen. You are as pretty as a picture!’

Even though Laurence was directly behind me, I could sense his relief.

‘Very pleased to meet you, Mrs Fitzsimons.’ I handed her a box of Milk Tray.

‘Oh, thank you, darling, but please, call me Lydia. Laurence, you told me she was beautiful, but you are stunning, my dear, simply stunning.’

‘Hi, Mum.’

She hugged Laurence first and then embraced me warmly, though her limbs were thin and bony, and swept us into the house. I had never been in a house like it in my life. I had been to a stately home on a job, and Avalon reminded me of that. A crystal chandelier hung beside a central staircase, and although the house showed a few signs of wear and tear, it was far grander than I had imagined. I tried to think of what Ma and Da would say if they were here. I didn’t think they could ever be relaxed in such surroundings. I wondered how Lydia might receive them, but she was perfectly sweet to me, complimenting my hair and my dress as she poured me a gin and tonic. I was grateful for the drink because, despite Lydia’s kind welcome, I knew I might have to answer uncomfortable questions about my background. Laurence had told me to be honest, though he admitted that he hadn’t revealed that I was married. ‘Keep that one for another day, eh?’

She and Laurence talked about his work and plans for the cottage, which she approved of wholeheartedly. She told him how well he looked, and congratulated him on his renewed exercise programme. She nodded in my direction. ‘Clearly, Karen is a great influence.’

When she headed towards the kitchen, I offered to come and help but she put her hands up. ‘Not at all, I have everything under control, don’t worry about me. Maybe Laurence will give you a tour of the house?’

And so Laurence showed me out of the drawing room, across the hall and into the dining room, the breakfast room, the playroom, the pantry, the cloakroom and the library before taking my hand and leading me up the stairs.

‘One day, all this will be ours …’ he whispered.

I nudged him and we laughed. I saw the bedroom he had slept in for most of his life, a man’s bedroom, sparse and functional despite the corniced ceiling and grand fireplace. I looked out at the view down the avenue through the barren trees and tried to imagine what it must be like to grow up in this luxury. Would Annie still have grown wild? I put the thought out of my head.

An old rocking horse stood on the corner of the landing. ‘I was never allowed to play with that, I can’t remember why. Perhaps it was too delicate,’ he said.

Out of respect for her privacy, we didn’t enter his mother’s room, but the other three bedrooms and a box room – ‘that’s where the maid used to sleep in Mum’s day’ – were structurally beautiful, though old broken furniture and books and boxes lay scattered around the rooms, covered in dust. A large empty room with a mirrored wall and a ballet barre was next door to Lydia’s bedroom. I couldn’t hide my astonishment.

‘Yeah, Mum did ballet when she was younger. She still practises every day.’

No wonder she was in such great shape.

‘Will you show me the garden?’ I asked, peering through a window, trying to see beyond my own reflection.

‘Another time, maybe. It’s too cold and dark now.’

Lydia called up to us from the hall to say that dinner was ready. Laurence grabbed me and kissed me on the lips before we ran downstairs.

The table layout in the dining room freaked me out. All the settings were at one end of a long table, so that Lydia would sit at the head of the table between Laurence and me. I had done etiquette lessons for Yvonne, but there were too many forks and knives and I couldn’t remember which side
plate was mine. Laurence saw my confusion and mouthed, ‘Watch me.’

Lydia and I sat down as she asked Laurence to carve the shoulder of lamb.

‘It’s totally out of season of course, so it’s out of the supermarket freezer, I’m afraid. I hope you like lamb, Karen?’

‘Oh yes, I’m sure it will be delicious.’

As dinner progressed, I could see Laurence becoming more relaxed. I didn’t sense any snobbery from Lydia at all, and saw no sign of her infamous neurosis. She was sweet and charming and chatty throughout. Maybe I had got her on a good day, or maybe Laurence’s recent spat with her had made him more wary. Maybe he had totally exaggerated her condition and her attitudes, because she was very nice to me.

‘And I believe you met because your dad signed on in Laurence’s office? Well, at least that’s interesting. From what I can see on the television, everybody meets nowadays in tawdry nightclubs.’

‘Karen doesn’t like nightclubs very much,’ said Laurence.

‘Very sensible,’ she said, smiling.

‘My dad isn’t signing on any more. He got a job a few months ago.’

‘Isn’t that just wonderful? Where is the new job?’

‘He’s a hospital porter.’

I could see Laurence stiffen.

‘Is he? He must be a very kind, caring man to do that kind of work. I think it’s admirable, don’t you, Laurence?’

‘He’s a very nice man, Mum. You’ll meet him sometime.’ Laurence smiled at his mother and she put her hand on his, I think to reassure him.

While she filled our wine glasses and cleared the plates away into the kitchen, refusing any help, I said to Laurence, ‘I don’t know what you were worried about, she’s lovely.’

‘I know, I can’t believe it. She’s certainly on her best behaviour.’

Lydia re-entered the room. ‘I am so silly. I forgot to get another bottle of wine. It was on my shopping list and I’ve just realized that I never crossed it off. I’m so sorry.’

‘Don’t worry, Mum. We’ve had enough.’

‘Oh, but I wanted us to relax in the drawing room and hear all about Karen’s travels. I wanted to buy Italian wine to remind you both of Rome.’

Laurence and I exchanged a quick glance.

‘I’m not stupid, darling. Anyway, Karen might just inspire me to jet off somewhere.’

I offered to pop out to the nearest off-licence, but Lydia wouldn’t hear of it. I suggested that Laurence should go, but he was reluctant. ‘Please, Laurence, I’d love to tell your mum about Paris and Milan. I think she’d love Paris in particular.’

He looked uncertain, but agreed. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’

His mum looked at him, smiling broadly. ‘Darling, you needn’t worry, I adore her! And try to get a Chianti?’

After Laurence had left, she allowed me to help her a little in the kitchen. We chatted as I dried some serving dishes.

‘Look out there, can you see? There used to be an ornamental pond there when I was a girl.’

I put my face up against the glass and could just see a raised stone platform on the grass with a small stone structure on top. ‘What’s that?’ I asked.

‘It’s the old bird bath that used to be in the pond. About five or six years ago, Laurence took a notion that he was going to build up a platform and cement over it. I don’t know what got into him. He never showed any interest in the garden before that, but nothing could stop him that time – and it was winter too, around this time of year, I think. Doesn’t it look odd?’

I laughed, agreeing it did look odd. ‘And do you know that from the day it was finished, he hardly ever set foot in the back garden?’

We went into the drawing room and sat in the glow of the fireplace in upholstered armchairs, slightly frayed at the corners, though you could tell the fabric had been expensive.

‘Would you like to see photos of Laurence as a child?’

I readily agreed, and she came and sat on the arm of my chair with leather-bound photo albums. She turned the pages and pointed out what an adorable baby he was, and indeed he was extremely cute, waving his spoon at the camera, crawling out from under a table. There was a photograph of him at about five years old, wearing a hat that was way too big for him.

‘That was his grandfather’s trilby. You know, Laurence wore it all the time, even when he grew up. He was very attached to it. I must ask him what happened to it. I haven’t seen it in about six years now. But I suppose it is very unfashionable these days.’

Lydia turned more pages and I gasped at a photo of Laurence, quite obese, standing with Lydia beside a navy vintage Jaguar. I knew every make and model of Jaguar from that era. I kept my voice steady. ‘Where was that taken? Who owns the car?’

‘That was my husband’s. A 1957 Jaguar Sedan. God knows, he poured so much money into keeping it on the road for Laurence.’

‘For Laurence?’

‘Oh yes, Laurence begged Andrew to teach him to drive when he was seventeen years old. Laurence was absolutely obsessed by that old car. They had terrible rows about it. Laurence didn’t even have a driving licence at the time. Didn’t he tell you about it? One day, after Andrew died, he sold it, just
like that, as if it had never mattered. I should warn you, Laurence is adorable but he does have his peculiarities!’ She grinned at me. ‘If you could have seen him, driving around in that car wearing his grandfather’s old hat. Hilarious!’

I had only had a glass of wine after my gin and tonic, but I felt hot and cold and confused and sick. Lydia noticed.

‘Are you all right, dear? You are very pale. Shall I fetch you a glass of water?’

These things are perfectly normal, I told myself. Of course Laurence would never have told me that he had driven that car or worn a hat like that. He knew it would have upset me. I regained my composure. Lydia returned with a glass of water and a cardboard box.

‘Here you are, drink up, you poor thing. Are you sure you’re all right?’

‘I’m fine. Just a passing headache, thank you.’

‘By the way, I found this stuff in an old hidey hole in Laurence’s bedroom. It’s probably just old junk, but he may want to take it to the cottage.’ She placed the box on my lap and exited the room again to fill the coal scuttle.