Sea of Lost Love (36 page)

P
amela went to church. It didn't matter that St. Peter's wasn't a Catholic church; as far as she was concerned, God was damn lucky that she was going at all. She sat on one of the chairs at the front and contemplated the most extraordinary happening of her life. It had all begun the night before last. She had gone to bed, having drunk a cup of hot cocoa, feeling miserable. Harry was at school, Celestria doing God knows what in Italy, and she was all alone with just Poochi for company, feeling extremely sorry for herself. Her father was in residence in Scotland. In his vast, overdecorated, gothic castle, surrounded by servants and friends he had acquired over the years. She had spoken to him that day by telephone. He had been stalking with the Earl of Rosebury. He was feeling fit and well and very pleased with himself. Now, after years of estrangement, Pamela felt close to him again.

In the middle of the night she woke. It was dark but for the golden glow of the streetlamp outside the house. She blinked into the darkness as a figure appeared before her eyes. To her astonishment, it was her father. His form was ghostly, not entirely solid, but in color. He looked younger, too. He didn't speak, but she sensed him communicating and understood him. He was saying good-bye and wrapping her in love.

She felt her eyes well with tears, willing him to stay. He smiled his characteristic broad smile that extended across his whole face. “I'm ready,” he said silently. “I'm done here. But I'll always be around.” She sat up, determined to hold on to him. But then he was gone. At eight o'clock the telephone rang. Her father had suffered a heart attack in the night and was dead.

Now she sat in church, knowing that her vision had been nothing less than the soul of her father saying good-bye as he made his final journey to heaven. She no longer had any doubt. There
was
life after death, and there
was
a God. He had heard her and given her this gift. She couldn't wait to tell Father Dalgliesh. She would telephone the presbytery as soon as the service was over.

It was strange. She had lost her husband and her father in less than two months, and yet she no longer felt alone. She knew they were with her in spirit, and that certainty gave her great comfort. After years of not believing, she now understood why people went to church. There was so much more to life than the glamour of the material world. There was a spirit world, an existence beyond death, and that gave her life a whole new meaning. Besides, if she was going to be judged, she'd better start making up for her bad behavior.

 

Celestria returned to London. The excitement of being back home was spoiled by the sadness of her grandfather's death. She stared out of the taxi window, feeling nothing but a terrible emptiness. She felt sorry for herself, having lost two men in the short space of a few weeks. However, once she was home, lying on her mother's bed, hearing about Lotty's flight with the piano teacher and how Penelope was so incensed she could barely speak about it, she felt better.

“Dear Lotty has made a terrible mistake,” said Pamela. “What sort of life will she have with a simple piano teacher? Where will they live? I can't imagine her being very happy living in Maida Vale.” Celestria admired her cousin's courage. It was no easy feat to defy Aunt Penelope.

“Why do you all think one has to be rich to be happy?”

“Because money buys freedom.”

“Not freedom from her mother!” said Celestria with a chuckle.

“I'm trying to be good, so I'll pretend I didn't hear that.”

“Why are you trying to be good? Isn't it a terrible effort?”

Pamela sniffed and placed her dog on her lap. “I've found God,” she said. Celestria snorted in disbelief. “Don't mock me, darling. I saw a vision the night your grandfather died. He came to me.”

Celestria grew serious. “He did?”

“Absolutely. He was grinning his great big grin, and he told me that he'd still be around. It was very clear. Undeniable. Then I was woken by the telephone saying he'd died in his sleep. So God is up there somewhere, and your grandfather is there, too. I am as surprised as you are. But I've made a pledge to be a better person, because when I die I want to join him. No good being in hell with your father when I can be in heaven with Pa.”

“Mama, Papa's not in hell!”

“Of course he is. Not for long, of course, because we'll pray for his soul.”

Celestria so wanted to tell her the truth, but she knew her mother couldn't take it. “When is the funeral?”

“On Saturday. Ma is coming over from New York. She's miserable that she wasn't there when he died. Anyway, you have a few days to recover from your trip before we go to Scotland. We'll stay in the castle. I'll have to sell it, of course. Ma won't want it.”

“Are you sure you don't want to live there?”

Pamela shot her a look of mock contempt. “It's a ghastly pile. I don't know why he bought it in the first place. He spent so little time there.”

“I had so much to tell him,” said Celestria sadly. Then, with a pang of horror, she remembered the letter she had sent him. He hadn't lived to read it. What if her mother found it? She swallowed, resolving to find it and destroy it the moment she arrived in Scotland.

“I'm sure you do. He's around, if you feel like sharing it with him.”

Celestria stared at her in amazement. “You sound like someone else!”

“I am someone else,” she said seriously. “I've shed a skin, metamorphosed. How was your trip, darling? Did Waynie survive those Italians she was so frightened of?”

“Mama,” said Celestria carefully, “she's still there.”

“You came home on your own?”

“I'm not a child, Mama!”

“What's she doing there, for goodness' sake?”

“She's marrying one of those Italians.”

Pamela stopped stroking Poochi and placed her hand across her mouth. “You can't be serious! Waynie?”

“I'm afraid it's true. Waynie isn't coming back.”

“What's gone wrong with the world? I'm losing everyone.” Celestria knew she couldn't begin to tell her mother about Hamish.

“She's very happy. You've found God; she's found love. They're very sweet together, actually. It's taken years off her.”

“You're different, too,” said her mother, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “I hope you didn't fall in love.” Celestria lowered her gaze and ran her fingers over the bobbles on her mother's crocheted bedspread.

“I had a good rest.”

“Harry's back at Eton. The best place for him. His housemaster called me to say that he's fine, surrounded by his friends and all the distractions of school. By the way, Aidan Cooney has been telephoning, wanting to know when you were coming back. Why don't you give him a call? He's definitely at the top of the food chain. I must go, darling, I'm having my hair done. Don't want to be late.”

Celestria knew that she'd have to face Aidan sooner or later. Even if she took Hamish out of the equation, she couldn't marry Aidan. Daphne was right; why commit to a lifetime with a man who didn't make the earth move?

Celestria telephoned him, and he suggested they have lunch in Knightsbridge.

“Darling, I'm dreadfully sorry about your grandfather; the old boy had good innings, though!”

“Thank you, Aidan.”

“You're an heiress now. I don't need to save you from poverty.”

Celestria felt uncomfortable. Not because of Aidan's brashness, but because she realized how much Italy had changed her. A couple of weeks ago she would have laughed at his comments. “I miss him so much.”

“I'm going to take care of you now, my darling.”

Celestria put down the telephone and realized that she didn't want anyone to take care of her. She was quite capable of looking after herself. She ran a bath and soaked in it. When she closed her eyes, it was Hamish who rose out of the mist, his wide face solemn, his green eyes deep and troubled, his hair wild and unkempt. It wasn't the rose oil that filled her senses but the memory of pine and the sound of birds in the almond trees, dogs barking in the road, and the peaceful stillness of the city of the dead. Puglia had refashioned her so that now her shape no longer fitted the old mold. She felt at odds with her London life. Yet there niggled at the back of her mind the fear that Hamish's love was not enough. Perhaps the gamble was too great, even for her. Would life not be simpler if she tried to pick up the pieces of her old life?

She waited for Aidan in the hall. The house no longer felt like home. Without her father it felt empty, as if he were the vital note without whom the chord clashed. When the doorbell rang, she picked up her handbag, expecting it to be Aidan, but to her surprise, it was a deliveryman with the largest bunch of lilies she had ever seen. She pressed her nose to them and inhaled the scent; it reminded her of Italy.

“Typical Aidan,” she said, handing them to Godfrey. “Will you put them in water? I'd like them in my room, please. They're beautiful.”

“Of course, Miss Celestria,” Godfrey replied, longing to ask about Mrs. Waynebridge. Was it true that she was never coming back? He hesitated a moment. Celestria sensed the reason.

“Mrs. Waynebridge is getting married to an Italian she met in Puglia,” she said. The old man's eyes widened. “Italy has changed her, Godfrey.” She sighed wistfully, her gaze resting on the lilies. “It has changed me, too.”

Godfrey disappeared with the lilies. Celestria continued to wait. Finally Aidan arrived, jumping up the steps to the front door two at a time. His face expanded into the widest smile. Celestria had forgotten how handsome he was.

“Darling!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around her. “You look beautiful. God, it's good to have you back, old girl!” He kissed her lips, and Celestria was so taken aback she forgot to thank him for the lilies. “I'm taking you to the Ritz,” he said. “Only the best will do for my fiancée!” There was something very reassuring about being in his arms again. It was as familiar as an old pair of slippers.

“I thought we were going to have lunch in Knightsbridge?”

“I changed my mind.” Celestria would rather not have gone to the Ritz. It would only remind her of her grandfather. “I've got a surprise for you.” He smirked, pleased with himself.

“You needn't have gone to the trouble,” she said, wondering when would be the best time to tell him that she couldn't marry him. He opened the car door and helped her in. There was a time when she had relished his shiny green Austin Healey; now her heart longed for Nuzzo and his horse and cart.

They arrived at the Ritz to be welcomed by the doorman, who took her hand in both of his. “I had great respect for Mr. Bancroft, miss,” he said, his eyes brimming with sympathy and regret. “We shall all miss him here.”

“Thank you so much,” she replied, wishing they had chosen anywhere else in London but here, her grandfather's favorite dining room. Mr. Windthorne swept across the carpeted floor to greet her.

“We are all so dreadfully sorry, Miss Montague. London shines less brightly without Mr. Bancroft.”

Aidan took her arm, and they were escorted along the corridor, past the tea room where she had often eaten scones and jam with her grandfather, and into the dining room.

“I have chosen a table around the corner so you can be private,” said Mr. Windthorne, with a wink at Aidan. Celestria suddenly had the most dreadful feeling. They were conspiring together. She remembered Aidan's mention of a surprise for her. Surely he wouldn't have announced their engagement without telling her first?

As they turned the corner she was welcomed by a long table of family and friends. Celestria's heart sank. This was not the time to meet his parents. Everyone stood up and clapped, their faces aglow with delight.

“Darling, why didn't you tell me?” Pamela cried, rushing over to embrace her. “I'm so pleased! A spring wedding; I've already booked the church.” Celestria felt faint. It had all gone too far. Her mother's arms wrapped around her like tentacles, and she was enveloped in a cloud of tuberose. “You shall have the most spectacular wedding, darling. It's what Pa would have wanted.” Celestria knew that her grandfather would have only wanted what
she
wanted. Slowly, she moved around the table, greeting everyone with a smile and a kiss, while inside she wanted to die.

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” said Aidan's mother sweetly, kissing her. “This couldn't be a happier day.” Celestria was about to make it the most miserable day. Aidan's father kissed her, too, and Celestria felt sorry. Had things been different, she would have loved Aidan's family. “Really, Aidan,” she said finally, sitting down. “The flowers were enough.”

He looked at her quizzically. “Flowers? What flowers?”

“The lilies that arrived this morning.”

Aidan looked put out. “I didn't send you any flowers.” He appealed to Pamela. “Do you know who sent my fiancée flowers?”