Second Time Around (30 page)

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Authors: Marcia Willett

BOOK: Second Time Around
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Leaving Helen sitting slumped at the table, she went into the kitchen and rinsed the mugs. As the kettle boiled, she stood staring out at the familiar and much-loved view. Her heart ached for her daughter but a small corner of her mind was rebelling. How could she bear to uproot herself from the cove and go to Bristol to live in a small flat with Helen and a baby and how would they survive financially? Would she ever be free again to take up the threads of her old life; would they
still be there, waiting for her? Isobel felt a sickening panic as she stood, gripping the edge of the sink, her eyes on the water. She could not bear to leave Will and Bea; to give up her job in the bookshop; part with her cottage. Why should she? Helen had refused to see her for five years. She had ignored her and hurt her and now expected her mother to sacrifice herself for her own mistakes. Her resentment faded and guilt seized Isobel's heart. If she had not abandoned Helen when she met Mike it was possible that none of this might have happened. Was it the shock of seeing her father absorbed with Sally that had turned Helen's love towards an older man? It was impossible to know the truth but Isobel had a cold feeling that it was time to try to make amends for her own selfish actions.
As she turned away from the window, Isobel heard a muffled sound. She paused, her hand on the kettle's handle. It was the despairing sound of Helen weeping. Isobel took a deep breath, imagining her daughter's unhappiness and her loneliness. What a terrible way to start her young life! Bleakly Isobel recognised the fact that there were no choices here; she could not abandon Helen a second time. If she wished to rebuild the love and friendship between them then, somehow, they must manage this together. Isobel made the coffee and, summoning every ounce of courage and optimism, she picked up the mugs and went back to her daughter.
 
 
SEBASTIAN STOOD AT THE bar of the Skylark at Clearbrook buying drinks. He'd managed to wangle a few hours' leave from the ship but his time was limited and he'd hardly been five minutes at Kate's house at Whitchurch before he'd suggested that he and Tessa should go out for a drink. Sebastian hunched his shoulders and jingled the coins in his pockets as he watched the beer frothing up the glass. Tessa had not realised that this invitation was because, at the sight of her standing at the door, he had completely lost his nerve. As he'd driven out towards Tavistock he had made up his mind to be absolutely honest with her but, when he saw her small figure waiting for him, his courage had deserted him. How could he let her down? He remembered the tragic events which surrounded her younger life and the brave way that she had taken opportunities and carved out a life for herself. He also remembered her unwavering devotion to him and the occasions when he had taken advantage of it.
She'd smiled as he climbed out of the car and approached her but there was an odd expression in her eyes, almost as if she had guessed his cowardly intentions. Desperately he tried to resurrect the feelings he'd had when he'd seen her wandering ethereally in Freddie's meadow but all he could see was the old, familiar Tessa in jeans and sweatshirt, a younger sister of whom he was very fond. He knew from past experience that, when he'd had a beer or two, a certain amount of the magic would return, after all she was a very attractive girl, but
being permanently inebriated was not quite how he wished to spend his married life.
Well, it was rather too late to think of that now. The damage was done. Sebastian took a pull at his beer as he waited for his change. He knew now that he was not capable of dealing the blow that would break the engagement. He comforted himself with the knowledge that it could be a great deal worse; she was pretty and very sweet and she loved him. It would simply have to be enough.
From her table in the corner Tessa watched him with a sense of despair. Each time she saw him she was reminded of the past; of all those weekends and holidays when the Andersons had taken pity on her and welcomed her into their home. She remembered how she had first seen him and fallen in love with him and, from that moment, had idealised him. She knew now that the real Sebastian was far removed from those fantasies but how could she possibly explain that to him? His voice on the telephone had been almost curt and, for one glorious moment, she had hoped that he might be coming to tell her that he'd changed his mind. When he arrived, however, he had hugged her in the old friendly way and since then had been chatting perfectly normally. Certainly the new passion he had shown on that night at Freddie's was not apparent, he was much more like his old self, but this was a flying visit and he was probably preoccupied with the ship and her coming sea trials.
Whilst she'd waited for him to drive out from Plymouth she had steeled herself to tell him the truth. She rehearsed what she would say to him, how she would explain her feelings, but, the moment she saw his tall figure, she was swept back into the past with all its memories and obligations and she knew that she would never be able to hurt him or his family. She told herself that he would be away a great deal and that he was kind and good-looking but, when she thought about Giles, she felt as though her heart were being squeezed to death. Her only hope was that, whilst Sebastian was in America, he might meet someone else or change his mind.
She smiled as he set the drinks down and tried to think of something to say. ‘Thanks. Well, this is a nice surprise. Here's to the trials.'
‘I'll drink to that.' He drank deeply. ‘I've got something to suggest, actually. It's a bit sudden but I'm sure you'll understand.'
She looked at him quickly and once again he saw that odd look in her eyes. Could she possibly have guessed at his real feelings? If she had, then at least what he had to say would put her mind at rest.
‘I've been thinking.' He put down his glass and reached for her hand. ‘You know I think I was wrong to say that we should wait to get married until after Washington.' She stiffened a little and he held her hand more tightly, knowing that she had been hurt at his refusal to go along with her idea of a quiet ceremony before he took up his post. ‘I've changed my mind. What about fixing the wedding as soon as possible. Mother's perfectly happy to organise it. What d'you say?'
‘Have you spoken to your mother about it?' She was staring at their joined hands; at the winking of the stones in her engagement ring.
He thought quickly. ‘Well, I have. Don't be cross with me. I had to clear it with her. To make sure she could cope before I asked you. It'll be a bit of a rush and you did say that you felt your cousin couldn't be expected to deal with it.'
‘I know I did. Don't worry. I wasn't accusing you of anything. What did your mother say?'
‘She said that it could be done. It would be a bit hectic but that she's perfectly happy to take it on.'
‘I see.' So that was that. Her escape route was closed.
‘You don't look too certain about it?'
He was watching her with a strange expression in his eyes and she was distressed lest he should be hurt by her lack of enthusiasm.
‘Sorry.' She made a tremendous effort and smiled at him as brightly as she could. ‘It's come as a bit of a shock. I'd … well, I'd resigned myself to waiting. In fact,' she made one last try, ‘I had a tiny suspicion that you might be changing your mind.'
She was staring at him so desperately that he felt a stab of guilt
followed by a rush of tenderness for her. ‘What rubbish!' he said and leaned over to kiss her. ‘Just too much on my mind, that's all. So what about it?'
‘Wonderful.' She raised her glass. ‘Here's to us.'
For a moment he thought that she had tears in her eyes and he sighed inwardly. How could he possibly have imagined that he could hurt her?
‘Here's to us,' he said.
 
BEA ORDERED COFFEE AND went back to the table in the corner where Sidney, waiting obediently by her chair, wagged his tail and lay down with a sigh. Bea sighed too as she looked about her and settled herself more comfortably in her chair. Isobel had brought her to the Bedford Hotel, several months before, and she had been struck by the quiet comfortable bar where locals and residents alike sat talking over pots of tea or coffee or reading the newspapers. Well-behaved dogs were welcomed and Bea felt content to sit here in this peaceful atmosphere and wait for Will. She glanced down at Sidney who was attracting attention from a couple at a neighbouring table. Clumber spaniels were by no means a common sight and his square sturdy body and big domed head drew much praise. Strangers approached crying, ‘Oh, isn't he beautiful. But what is he?' and Sidney stood patiently as they stroked his silky coat and gently pulled his long ears.
Bea stretched out a foot and patted him with her toe, smiling at the couple. She was secretly enjoying the vicarious admiration which he attracted and was becoming resigned to white hair on the carpet and slobber marks on her skirt. This surprised her but she knew that there was always a price to pay if life was to be lived fully; the mess a cat or dog made; the ash and dust from a wood fire; the clearing up after the preparation of a delicious meal. It was tempting—and Bea knew that living alone she might easily have been so tempted—to simplify life, to pare it to the bone, cutting out anything that made unnecessary work. The trouble was that this nihilistic attitude could lead to boredom and
emptiness. Bea was grateful that Will saved her from this temptation. Will lived with great enthusiasm and Bea was very happy to be taken along with him.
The coffee arrived and Bea shuffled forward on her seat so as to pour herself a cupful. She was reaching for the sugar when the sound of her name, uttered with great surprise, arrested her action. Hand outstretched she stared up at Tony Priest.
‘It is you,' he said with the lazy smile that had caused her such flutterings in the past. ‘Well, well.' His eyes took in the casual shirt and sailcloth skirt, her tanned skin and well-cut cropped hair. ‘I must say you're looking extraordinarily fit. Being a landowner obviously suits you.'
Bea swallowed and dropped a lump of brown sugar into her coffee. ‘It … has its moments,' she said, wondering whether Will was likely to arrive and unwittingly show her up. She remembered her mother saying, ‘Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practise to deceive,' and took a deep breath. ‘How are you, Tony? How's everyone? '
‘Fine.' He glanced down at the slumbering Sidney and, to Bea's dismay, sank into the chair opposite. ‘Missing you, of course.'
He smiled at her again and she remembered how he had enjoyed making her a little confused, delighting in her silent admiration. Bea looked away from him—outraged that she had ever been fool enough to have given him such satisfaction—and saw Will come in and look about him. The expression on her face caused Tony to glance round, giving Bea just long enough to make a warning face at Will. He came across, smiling at Bea and noticing the wariness with which she greeted him.
‘This is Tony Priest,' she said. ‘The History master at my old school. This is Will Rainbird,' she told Tony. ‘My land agent. He met Marian when we came to collect my things.'
‘So I heard.' Tony had risen and was shaking Will's hand, looking at him appraisingly. ‘She was very impressed … with the whole
thing, of course.' His implication that Marian had been taken with Will was left hanging in the air and there was a moment of awkwardness. Bea remembered how he had loved to create these little frissons, often very amusing ones, and how he liked to stand back and watch the effect. Generally—and flatteringly—he had invited Bea to be a fellow spectator. This time she refused to play his game.
‘Oh, Marian was all over him like a rash,' she said dismissively. ‘Poor Will. Very embarrassing wasn't it, darling?'
Tony's eyes opened wide and he looked sharply at Will, who was patting himself all over, his face expressionless.
‘Dreadful woman,' he said, producing his pipe. ‘Terribly obvious. What an afternoon! Now then, my darling, are you ready or do you want more coffee?' He took her hand and held it for a second and then turned back to Tony, who watched this by-play with amazement on his face. ‘Sorry. Am I butting in? Are you staying in the hotel?'
‘We are.' Tony took a grip on himself. ‘Nicola will be along in a moment. Why don't you stay to see her?'
Bea, who was dithering between fleeing whilst there was time and a desire to brazen it out, looked at Will. It was clear that, having given her the opportunity to escape, he was leaving the next move to her. She remembered that he'd had no coffee and that Sidney would probably not be welcome in any of the other cafés. Moreover, she had not yet drunk her own coffee.
‘Good idea,' she said easily. ‘You need some coffee, Will, after the drive over. Why not order some. Tony?'
‘No, none for me,' he said quickly. ‘I had plenty at breakfast. So, Bea.' He sat down, looking at her intently as Will went to the bar, the old teasing smile willing her to share her secrets. ‘What a dark horse you are.'
She refused to be drawn or flattered. ‘Oh, not particularly,' she said, meeting his eye provocatively. ‘I just take advantage of what life sends. Don't we all?'
‘We do indeed. Ah!' He got to his feet. ‘Nicola. Over here. Look who's here?'
Bea looked at the slim, smart, pretty woman and realised that she no longer felt inadequate, nor clumsy and plain. She smiled, raising her eyebrows at Nicola's surprise.
‘What fun,' she said calmly. ‘How are you, Nicola?'
‘I'm well thanks, Bea. And you, I hear, have become a wealthy landowner.'
Her sharp eyes examined Bea coldly: Bea laughed.
‘Old Marian does like to be first with the news, doesn't she?' she asked admiringly. ‘I expect the whole school knows. Probably the town, as well. Did she tell you about Will, too?'
‘Will?' Nicola looked faintly discomfited. ‘Well, I'm not absolutely certain …' She looked at Tony, who was obviously enjoying the encounter enormously.
‘No need to be prissy, Nicola,' said Bea impatiently. ‘I'm sure she did. And here he is. Will, darling, this is Nicola, Tony's wife. This is Will Rainbird, my land agent.'
‘How d'you do?' Will shook her hand warmly. ‘Perhaps I should have ordered more coffee.' He sat down beside Bea, leaving the other two standing, and stroked Sidney who groaned and rolled over on to his side.
‘Did he come with the estate, too?' asked Tony, still looking amused.
‘He comes from a broken home,' said Will blandly. ‘He's learning to trust again. We're a very happy little community, aren't we, my darling?'
He beamed at Bea, who smiled at him with genuine affection. ‘We certainly are,' she agreed. She looked up at Tony and Nicola. ‘Do sit down,' she said, a testy note creeping into her voice. ‘Are you sure you won't have some coffee?'

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