Authors: Marcia Willett
The Courtyard (12 page)
Up in the drawing room she took Henry his coffee, pausing to kiss him lightly on the cheek. Hitherto, she'd been careless of his feelings and suspicions. It was different now. This was far too important to jeopardise. She knew instinctively that Sam was not the sort of man who would want a messy relationship. He would be up and away at the least sign of an angry husband or a badly conducted liaison. Gillian smiled at the surprised Henry but bit her lip as she turned away. If only she could find someone with some money to spare, someone who could recognise a good deal. Sam was prepared to be very generous to whoever helped to get his scheme off the ground. Suddenly she thought of Elizabeth. After all, this was quite different from borrowing money. Elizabeth might welcome the opportunity of such an investment. Gillian took a deep breath and turned a blinding smile upon Joan Beresford who was congratulating her on such a lovely party. Tomorrow she would speak to Elizabeth. Her thoughts flew ahead, imagining herself telling Sam that she had found his investor, accepting his praise and her rewards, and her heart beat hard and fast.
Henry looked about for Nell and guessed that she'd slipped away to bed. He'd been concerned to see her looking so pale and drawn and thinner, too. In some ways it suited her particular sort of beauty but he was anxious for her as he might be for some mistreated rare and lovely work of art. Like Gussie, he was shocked that John had left her to make the last painful journey to the cottage alone and his chivalrous nature longed to cherish and protect her as much as he was able, but his feelings for her were all emotional. No physical desire stirred to distress him. He smiled at Gillian's kiss and beamed at Gussie's evident happiness and felt content. He accepted the limitations of his marriage philosophically and immersed himself, as he had always done, in the continuation and preservation of Nethercombe.
Upstairs, Nell slept fitfully as nightmares and strange presentiments disturbed her rest and she tossed and muttered until, finally towards dawn, she fell into a heavy dreamless slumber.
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TO NELL'S OVERWHELMING RELIEF, Jack's sorrow at the news of the cottage being sold was quite overshadowed by his delight when he heard about the new baby. Along with the relief, Nell felt surprise at his excitement. Far from suspecting that he had longed for a brother or sister, she feared that he might be horrified by the news. She imagined that he would find the whole thing embarrassing and, knowing eleven-year-old boys, wondered how he would deal with it at school. As usual, Jack's confidence was quite equal to it and he was hardly out of the car on the first day back before he was telling the glad tidings to his friends. There were no sniggerings or pitying glances and Nell felt, such was Jack's charisma, that his friends' mothers would soon be besieged with requests for babies. She felt quite weak with gratitude and drove back to Bristol with a lighter heart. The proceeds from the sale of the cottage had eased the burden a little, lightening John's spirits and, encouraged by Jack's love and optimism, Nell was determined that she and John must face any new troubles together rather than allow problems to drive them apart.
For a few weeks Nell held to the belief that this could be achieved but the financial situation was already beginning to deteriorate again when John's mother died. The half-term trip to Nethercombe had to be postponed because of her funeral and John felt a new guilt. He should have spent more time with her, visited her more often but, even as he thought it, he knew he was glad that he need never again suffer the humiliation of being weighed in the balance and found wanting
or judged and criticised when things went wrong. He remembered a similar reaction when Rupert died and he made haste to justify it by reminding himself of all his old grievances against his mother and brother. Also, of course, there was the house. His mother had very little to leave in the way of money or valuables, she didn't even run a car, but she owned outright the large family house and this she left to John.
or judged and criticised when things went wrong. He remembered a similar reaction when Rupert died and he made haste to justify it by reminding himself of all his old grievances against his mother and brother. Also, of course, there was the house. His mother had very little to leave in the way of money or valuables, she didn't even run a car, but she owned outright the large family house and this she left to John.
Nell's first idea was that they should move into it, close the business and manage on John's pension until he could find a job. It was wonderful to know that, once again, they could have their own home and she began to dare to believe that things were really beginning to take a turn for the better. She was shocked at herself that this relief was a more strongly felt emotion than grief at her mother-in-law's death but Nell was beginning to understand the meaning of the word âsurvival' and the security of her own family must come first. She'd never had a particularly close relationship with John's mother, nevertheless she knew she was being specious when she told herself that, since Rupert's death, John's mother had lost all her zest for life â after all, surely no one would prefer death to life â but it made her feel less ashamed of her relief.
Jack was the most affected by his grandmother's death. He genuinely mourned the kind old lady who had seen in him a reincarnation of Rupert and had always shown him great affection and never failed to exhibit pride in all his achievements. He insisted on going to the funeral in his Sunday suit and felt quite comfortable about the fact that she was now with his grandfather and Uncle Rupert in some celestial mansion, which was a great deal better for her, in his opinion, than living on her own in Bournemouth. Since she'd always evinced such pleasure in his company he felt regretful that she hadn't been allowed to see more of him but he was prepared to be philosophical about it. Nor was it his fault, since the rarity of his trips to see her was mainly due to the fact that her obvious adoration of Jack exacerbated all John's resentments and insecurities and visits took place mostly when Jack was at school.
John continued to soothe his conscience by convincing himself that she'd never loved him anyway and wondered how he could borrow
money against the house. He knew he couldn't give up and, having put so much into the business, he must make a go of it. He simply couldn't bear the idea of another failure and was quite certain he would never get a job. Everywhere he looked he saw the casualties of the recession: unemployment, redundancies, bankruptcies. All the time he could go daily to his office, keep his head above water, have something of his own, he could cope. He suspected that sitting day after day in the house which had been witness to so many of his failures and Rupert's successes, writing for jobs that would never be forthcoming, would be his undoing. When he told Nell that he wanted to carry on as they were in Bristol she was troubled.
money against the house. He knew he couldn't give up and, having put so much into the business, he must make a go of it. He simply couldn't bear the idea of another failure and was quite certain he would never get a job. Everywhere he looked he saw the casualties of the recession: unemployment, redundancies, bankruptcies. All the time he could go daily to his office, keep his head above water, have something of his own, he could cope. He suspected that sitting day after day in the house which had been witness to so many of his failures and Rupert's successes, writing for jobs that would never be forthcoming, would be his undoing. When he told Nell that he wanted to carry on as they were in Bristol she was troubled.
âIs it wise?' she asked tentatively. âIsn't it sensible, sometimes, to cut your losses and get out?'
âI think the recession's bottoming out,' he said confidently. He'd heard someone say that in the pub only yesterday. âIt would be crazy to lose everything we've put in now. And the house is there if we need it.'
It was that comforting fact that made Nell feel she must agree with him.
âBut we won't sell it, will we?' she asked anxiously. She knew now that, if they were to sell, the money would disappear as all the rest had. âWe'll keep the house, just in case. We could rent it out. It would help pay the rent here.'
âNot a bad idea. I'll look into it,' said John who had no intention of letting the house. He needed money and the house was his only hope. âDon't worry. Things will be OK now.'
Hope born of desperation encouraged her to believe him and, with the fees paid for the whole of Jack's final year at prep school, Nell felt she could afford to relax.
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SAM WHITTAKER STOOD STARING out over the rooftops of Exeter wondering how long he could go on preventing the bank from foreclosing on his site. The interest had been rolling steadily on the fifty thousand pounds he'd borrowed â half the purchase money
required â and now stood at more than twelve thousand pounds. He needed an input of at least fifty-six thousand pounds to satisfy the bank and start work and who was going to risk that in the present market? He had great hopes of Gillian but, as yet, nothing had come of her attempts to raise the money from amongst her friends. Sam turned away from the window and lit a cigarette. It had been a great stroke of luck that his old chum Jeremy had to go off to the Middle East and was letting him caretake the flat. He had nowhere else to go except for his tiny cottage tucked away in Provence. He'd sold everything else to put in the other fifty thousand that the bank had demanded for the purchase of the site near Dartmouth and when his partner had drawn out he hadn't known where to turn. If only he could sell the site and get out!
required â and now stood at more than twelve thousand pounds. He needed an input of at least fifty-six thousand pounds to satisfy the bank and start work and who was going to risk that in the present market? He had great hopes of Gillian but, as yet, nothing had come of her attempts to raise the money from amongst her friends. Sam turned away from the window and lit a cigarette. It had been a great stroke of luck that his old chum Jeremy had to go off to the Middle East and was letting him caretake the flat. He had nowhere else to go except for his tiny cottage tucked away in Provence. He'd sold everything else to put in the other fifty thousand that the bank had demanded for the purchase of the site near Dartmouth and when his partner had drawn out he hadn't known where to turn. If only he could sell the site and get out!
Sam inhaled deeply on his cigarette and thought about Gillian. Some instinct told him that, all the time he held her off physically, her will to succeed for him would be greater. He sensed that, with her sexual needs satisfied, she might lose her edge and he had a strong intuition that she was going to help him get what he needed. He gave her just enough of himself to keep her off balance, wanting more, eager to please and, although he would have liked to satisfy both their needs, that same instinct warned him to wait. She was certainly doing her best and he encouraged her with drinks, lunches, caresses, and wondered from whom he could borrow more money.
Sam glanced at his watch. This waiting was driving him mad: the days seemed endless. He'd arranged to meet Gillian at lunch time to discover whether she'd had any success with her godmother. He toyed with the idea of inviting Gillian back to the flat and rejected it almost immediately. He must be patient a little longer. Sam finished his cigarette and went to have a shower, praying that this time she would have good news for him.
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THE NEWS THAT ELIZABETH had just left the country for a month's holiday acted as a cold shower on Gillian's plans and hopes. She now felt all the emotions for Sam that had been so obviously missing
in her feelings for Henry and more and more often, as she paced her bedroom floor and attempted to control her frustration, she found herself visualising how life with Sam might be should she throw her lot in with him. He'd told her about his little cottage in France, extolling the virtues of the Provence countryside and climate, and hinted at great expectations from an ageing uncle, and Gillian was beginning to build up a very attractive picture of the future. For the first time in her life she was experiencing that heavy, overpowering sexual enthraldom that drugs the senses and clouds judgement. Even now she did not suspect that Sam was withholding sexual favours deliberately: he was far too clever. He implied that he found her desirable but, for unnamed reasons, there was nothing he could do about it. Gillian pondered what those reasons might be. Was it because she was married? Surely not. She'd been quite open about her affair with Simon. Perhaps she hadn't made it obvious to him that she was willing? Unlikely. Without actually stating it in so many words, Gillian knew she'd made it quite clear that she was. And where, given that they actually arrived at that point, would the act take place? Sam said that he was staying with a friend and never invited her back. Perhaps he was simply too wrapped up in his scheme to concentrate on anything else. Something was needed to push the relationship over the top, to sweep away all the impediments and move them into the next stage. Gillian was convinced that, once Sam found an investor, things would change.
in her feelings for Henry and more and more often, as she paced her bedroom floor and attempted to control her frustration, she found herself visualising how life with Sam might be should she throw her lot in with him. He'd told her about his little cottage in France, extolling the virtues of the Provence countryside and climate, and hinted at great expectations from an ageing uncle, and Gillian was beginning to build up a very attractive picture of the future. For the first time in her life she was experiencing that heavy, overpowering sexual enthraldom that drugs the senses and clouds judgement. Even now she did not suspect that Sam was withholding sexual favours deliberately: he was far too clever. He implied that he found her desirable but, for unnamed reasons, there was nothing he could do about it. Gillian pondered what those reasons might be. Was it because she was married? Surely not. She'd been quite open about her affair with Simon. Perhaps she hadn't made it obvious to him that she was willing? Unlikely. Without actually stating it in so many words, Gillian knew she'd made it quite clear that she was. And where, given that they actually arrived at that point, would the act take place? Sam said that he was staying with a friend and never invited her back. Perhaps he was simply too wrapped up in his scheme to concentrate on anything else. Something was needed to push the relationship over the top, to sweep away all the impediments and move them into the next stage. Gillian was convinced that, once Sam found an investor, things would change.
When she knew that Elizabeth was home again, Gillian went to see her. To her chagrin, Elizabeth had another visitor. Richard rose to his feet as she followed her godmother into the sitting room and, despite her annoyance, Gillian was struck anew by his good looks.
âHow nice to see you,' he said, kissing her lightly on the cheek. âI think the last time was when I was passing you over to Henry, wasn't it? No regrets, I hope?'
âNo, no.' Gillian subsided into an armchair, laughing at such an absurd idea. âEverything's fine.'
âHow's Henry?' Elizabeth gave Gillian a cup of coffee and returned to her own chair.
âVery well.' Gillian looked around for sugar, remembered that her godmother never acknowledged its existence and sipped bravely. âDelighted that his cottages are selling so well.'
âI should think so!' exclaimed Richard. âHe must be the only man in the country selling property at the moment.'
Gillian was silent. This was not quite the reaction she'd hoped for.
âOf course Nethercombe's a bit of a one-off, isn't it?' observed Elizabeth. âThe setting is perfect. Those beautiful grounds and the swimming pool. It was very clever of him to give the residents access to all that. Personally I should hate the intrusion but it must be a very great selling point.'
âWe've got our own private gardens,' shrugged Gillian. âIt doesn't bother me particularly. But I think you're right. The setting is very important. Actuallyâ'
âAnd you're just off the A38 there,' mused Richard. âVery convenient if you need to get anywhere in a hurry.'
âI'm not sure that matters,' argued Gillian, thinking how very far the site near Dartmouth was from a good, fast road. âAfter allâ'
âOh, I think it matters,' said Richard. âNot many people are buying second homes at the moment, are they? If they're buying them as main residences then they need to get to work. They don't want to be stuck miles from anywhere.'
âI think it dependsâ'
âIt seems to me,' said Elizabeth, âthat people who buy properties in courtyard developments want to live in the country but in an urban environment. You know? Small gardens, neighbours to keep an eye on things if they're out, amenities close at hand and all set in beautiful surroundings. Nethercombe's got all that. Added to which, Henry started just in time. Even he, with all those advantages, would be mad to be thinking of it now.' She bent to place a log on the fire.
Gillian looked at her in dislike. How prim and proper and unbearably stuffy she was! Even her logs looked newly laundered. No chance of a woodlouse running amok or a piece of loose bark dropping into
the spotless grate! She caught Richard's eye upon her and hastily rearranged her expression.
the spotless grate! She caught Richard's eye upon her and hastily rearranged her expression.
âI think you're right in general,' she said, in what she hoped was a rational voice. âAlthough I think there are still a few viable propositions around.'
âGood Lord, Gillian!' Richard raised his eyebrows a little and smiled at her. âThat sounds very professional. Thinking of taking up estate agency?'
âOf course not!' Gillian forced herself to laugh heartily at his insufferably patronising remark. Well, he was Elizabeth's accountant, after all! âIt's just that I heard of a project the other day which sounds really good. A wonderful site looking out to sea near Dartmouth. It's only three conversions and the owner's got buyers for all of them. His partner had to back out and he's looking for someone to go in with him.' She grimaced in what she hoped was a casually disinterested manner. âOught to be a gold mine, I should think.'
Elizabeth had become very still, her eyes fixed on Gillian's face, but Richard gave a snort.
âMinefield, more like. If the chap's got bona fide buyers he should be able to get backing easily enough. If they're really interested they ought to be prepared to sign a contract. No money need be exchanged until the properties are built but the banks might still back a deal if he's got the contracts and it's a really prime site. If the banks won't lend I should think there's a problem somewhere and I can't imagine anyone else foolish enough to take it on.'
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