The Prodigal Wife (3 page)

‘It's so silly,' she said to him much later. ‘I threw a wobbly. Panicking about Henrietta and how she'll manage while they're all away. Two months! It's such a long time, Angus.'

She passed him a mug of tea, suddenly remembering the remark a mutual friend had once made about Angus Radcliff. ‘He's so dishy, he could have been the model for Action Man,' she'd said. ‘I rather fancy him, don't you?' Cordelia had pretended indifference but she'd understood what she meant: the disconcerting light-grey stare and strong jaw; the dark, close-cropped hair and compact, well-muscled body.

‘So which outfit do you imagine him in?' she'd asked the friend. ‘Resistance Fighter? Helicopter Pilot? Arctic Explorer?'

‘Oh, I imagine him in nothing at all,' the friend had answered promptly. ‘That's the whole point' – and they'd shrieked with laughter.

Now, sitting down opposite him, she hid her smile. ‘And I've been thinking,' she said. ‘You know when we were on the narrowboat I was telling you about Susan's marriage breaking up and her parents whisking her and the children off to New Zealand? Well, it occurred to me when I was driving home that surely you must know Roger and Maggie Lestrange? Wasn't Roger at Dartmouth the same year as you and Simon?'

‘Roger Lestrange. Yes, of course I know him. You didn't mention his surname. But we weren't the same year. Roger was two years ahead of me and Simon at BRNC, but much later on Roger and I were at the M.o.D. together with Hal Chadwick. Roger and Hal were great oppos. Or should I say Admiral Sir Henry Chadwick?' He pulled a mock-reverential face.

‘Dear old Hal,' Cordelia said affectionately. ‘He's such a sweetie. And Fliss is so perfect as Lady Chadwick. That clean-cut, patrician face. Couldn't happen to a nicer couple. Remember when they let me do that piece for
Country Life
on that wonderful old house of theirs? The Keep. Hal was thrilled but Fliss insisted that their more personal details were kept right out of it, which was fair enough, I suppose. Apart from the history of the place we decided to concentrate on the organic vegetable-growing business that Jolyon started, Keep Organics. It was great fun.'

‘Odd, though, isn't it?' he said thoughtfully. ‘They weren't always a couple, Hal and Fliss. We tend to forget it because they seem so right together. They've only been married for about seven or eight years. Fliss and Hal are cousins, you know, and The Keep is just as much Fliss's as Hal's.'

‘They explained that when I went to see them,' Cordelia admitted. ‘That's why Fliss didn't want too much private stuff put in. It's been such a family house with so much drama that I could have written a whole book about them. It's an amazing place. Actually, the soke reminded me of it but on a much smaller scale. What happened to Hal's first wife? Did you know her?'

Angus frowned. ‘I don't think so. Once we'd all specialized we lost touch a bit. Roger and Hal were skimmers; Simon and I went into submarines. I think we were up at the M.o.D. when Hal's wife left him. She took one of their boys but Jolyon stayed with Hal so we saw much more of him. I must say it's so odd when I see Jo on the television these days. He's the image of Hal when he was that age.'

‘Jo!' Cordelia clapped her hand to her mouth. ‘Jolyon Chadwick. I
am
a fool.'

‘Why?'

‘That's why Henrietta telephoned. She said someone called Jo had left a message for Roger and she thought she recognized his voice. I never thought of Jolyon. I was thinking Joseph, or Joe with an e. I am a twit. He was going to drop in, not knowing that Maggie and Roger have gone off to New Zealand.'

‘Well, that's all right,' Angus said comfortably. ‘Henrietta won't come to any harm with Jo.'

‘Of course not. But I might just phone. Give her a warning shot across the bows. After all, he's quite a celebrity now, isn't he? She might be cross to be caught in her old jeans and no make-up.'

She found her mobile and pressed the buttons.

‘Darling, it's me. Listen. I'm wondering if it's Jo Chadwick who left the message…Oh. Oh, he's there now. Right…OK. Later on, yes, that'll be fine.'

Cordelia switched off and made a face at him. ‘He's already there,' she said.

Angus grinned. ‘And?'

Cordelia considered. ‘She sounded flustered. But in a nice way. Said she'd speak later on.'

He raised his eyebrows, pursed his lips. ‘Not too much later on, I hope,' he said. ‘We might be busy.'

She'd recognized him at once. He'd paused on the garden path, a slightly perplexed expression clouding his face, as if he'd suspected some change he couldn't quite pin down. Then Juno and Pan had strolled out of the door to meet him, his expression had cleared and he'd held out his hands to them, bending to stroke them. The puppy had gambolled behind them, prancing and bounding, and he'd laughed aloud and said, ‘Hello, old fellow,' and crouched to pull the puppy's ears. He'd glanced up then, and seen her waiting by the door, and his look of surprise had been almost ludicrous. He'd waded towards her through the sea of dogs and said, ‘Hello. Is Roger around?' and she'd said, ‘No, I'm afraid not, but come in. I think I've got some books for you.'

Now, they stood rather shyly together in the cool, dim hall, looking at the books, and she said, ‘So you didn't know that Maggie and Roger had gone to New Zealand?'

‘No.' He put the book back into the bag. ‘I'd heard that it was on the cards, but I had no idea they'd gone. And so you're looking after the dogs? And the old ponies.'

She hesitated. It would be easy to allow him to believe that she was an Animal Aunt; no explanations would be needed and he would disappear with his books and that would be that. But she didn't want him to disappear; she had an odd but very definite desire for him to stay.

‘Well, I am,' she said, ‘but it's not quite that simple. I'm not the Animal Aunt. I'm nanny to Susan's children. They've gone with Maggie and Roger, you see.'

He looked at her more closely. ‘I see,' he said. ‘Well, I think I do. Look, I'm Jolyon Chadwick. My father is one of Roger's oldest friends. Naval oppos and all that. I know Susan quite well, though I haven't seen her for years.'

She smiled. ‘I know who you are,' she said. ‘Mainly because of the television, of course, but I expect we've met up somewhere before. My family's Navy, too. Well, it was. I'm Henrietta March. Susan and I were at the Royal Naval School together. That's how I finished up as her nanny. I was between jobs at the same time that her business was really taking off and she had two babies, and it just seemed right somehow. When all this blew up I offered to come down here. Maggie's usual sitter was booked up.'

‘“All this”?' he repeated.

She hadn't expected her unconsidered phrase to be picked up quite so quickly. The silence lengthened whilst she wondered how much to tell him; after all, he would very soon hear the truth through the naval grapevine.

‘Would you like some tea?' She postponed the moment. ‘I've got rather a good cake from the village stores in Bicknoller.'

‘Thanks.' He followed her into the kitchen and went down on his knees to play with the puppy that rolled on to his back in ecstasy and nibbled Jolyon's fingers with pin-sharp teeth. ‘This fellow's new since I was last here. What's his name?'

‘Maggie calls him Tacker. It's the Cornish coming out in her, Roger says. He has a rather grand kennel name but Maggie just began calling him Tacker and it's rather stuck.'

‘Well, he is a little tacker,' said Jolyon. ‘He's gorgeous. My old fellow, Rufus, died last year but he was just like this once. So.' He stood up and took his tea from her. ‘What's it all about then?'

She'd decided not to prevaricate but still she hesitated. ‘It's rather embarrassing, isn't it? After all, it's very personal and we don't really know each other.'

‘We probably do. Naval families always have some connection. I expect our fathers know each other. I'm just curious as to why Roger and Maggie have dashed off so suddenly without telling their closest friends, that's all. But don't worry if you feel it's indiscreet to tell me. I won't badger you.'

Henrietta sighed as she cut two slices of cake. ‘It would be good to talk about it. To be honest, I'm still in shock. Iain has walked out on Susan. He's found someone else and they've split up. Maggie decided that it was a good moment for a sabbatical and has whirled Susan and the children off to New Zealand with her and Roger. Susan's partner is managing the business and looking after the London house and I agreed to come down here so that they could get away quickly.'

‘I see. Poor old Susan.' His voice was bleak.

She glanced at him. His expression was grim and somehow this was comforting. ‘I'm nearly as gutted as Susan,' she admitted. ‘We were all so happy, you see. At least I thought we were. There was no hint of anything. No rows, no shouting, no disagreements. The business going on in the basement and lots of people around. We were like a big family. And this has just blasted us all.'

‘Roger and Maggie must be devastated.'

‘They are. It affects so many people, doesn't it?' She was silent for a moment. ‘My parents are divorced.' She shrugged. ‘So what? Big deal, and all that. But it was painful, and now it seems as if it's happened all over again. My second family is all in pieces and it's like I'm in mourning. Oh, I can't explain it.'

‘You don't have to. I know all about it, except that I'm luckier than you are. My second family is still in one piece. Rather tough on you, being left alone, isn't it?'

‘I don't think they saw it like that. I mean, they weren't really thinking about me in that light. Maggie's one concern was to get Susan and the children away, and I agreed with her. To be honest it was almost a relief. I didn't want to be in Tregunter Road with Iain coming in and out, getting his things.'

‘But this is a bit extreme. You need your friends at a time like this.'

‘Maggie said I could invite people down. She was great. It's just I don't really want to talk about it yet. At least,' she grimaced, ‘not with mutual friends. All that speculation and gossipy stuff; picking over the juicy details. I'm not in the mood.'

He nodded. ‘I can understand that.'

Her mobile rang. She picked it up from the dresser, glanced at the screen, hesitated, muttered, ‘It's my mum,' and pressed the button. She slightly turned away from him, shoulder hunched, and he sat down at the table and began to murmur to the dogs.

‘Hi, Mum…Yes, actually he's here now…Yes. I'll call you later.' She switched it off, looking embarrassed.

‘I phoned her earlier,' she told him. ‘I'd been trying to decide who you might be after all those messages. I asked her if she knew anyone called Jo and she'd just suddenly wondered if it might be you.'

‘Oh.' He looked faintly gratified. ‘What's your mum's name?'

‘Cordelia Lytton. She reverted to her maiden name after the divorce. She's a journalist; a features writer. She mainly does the big glossies, but she's also written a series of rather off-beat factional books about the black sheep of ancient, well-known families. They've been very successful so her name might sound familiar.'

‘Of course, I know her. She did that article about The Keep for
Country Life
. And she's been to some of Dad's parties. She's great fun.'

‘Oh, yes. She's great fun,' Henrietta agreed.

He glanced at her, alerted by her non-committal tone. ‘I'm surprised we haven't met then.'

Henrietta shrugged. ‘I'm in London most of the time. In your message you said you were coming down from Bristol. Is that where you live?'

He shook his head. ‘I'm still at The Keep. That's our house in the South Hams that Cordelia wrote the article about. It's a funny old place but there's plenty of room and I still like to be involved in the business I started, growing organic vegetables.'

‘Before you became a famous television star,' she teased him.

‘Hardly a star and certainly not famous. Crazy, isn't it? From gardener to television presenter in three easy stages.'

Henrietta grinned at him. ‘You were a nine-day wonder that first summer. My goodness, the grapevine was
very
busy and Mum kept reminding me about the article she'd done about your family. And after that, Roger telephoned Susan every time you were going to be on the box so that we could get our friends in and boast that we knew you, and then we'd all sit round basking in your reflected glory.'

‘Oh, stop it. Honestly, it was such a fluke, but I must admit I'm loving every minute of it.'

‘It was amazing, though, wasn't it? What were you doing? Showing a rare rose at the Chelsea Flower Show or something? And next minute you're Monty Don and Ben Fogle rolled into one.'

‘It was my great-grandmother's rose. She'd brought a cutting to The Keep when she got married and it thrived but we never knew what it was. It wasn't my idea to take it to the flower show. One of my cousins talked me into it and organized it all, and then the television crew decided to do a little bit about it because of its rarity value and we got on to the history of the family and suddenly it got out of hand.' He shook his head, still baffled by his success. ‘The surprising thing was that when we did the live interview I really enjoyed myself. The TV crew were brilliant and we were all just having a good time.'

‘And then the offers came pouring in?'

‘Not quite like that. Apparently the BBC had loads of emails about the interview we did, and then this producer got in touch and asked if I'd meet him and some of his production team. They asked me to co-present a West Country programme – homes and gardens stuff – and then it went on from there. I've just been up to Bristol to discuss a new project, actually. It's all to do with shipbuilding and old harbours and we're just beginning to research it. That's why Dad asked Roger if I could borrow some of his books. He's a real expert on the sort of thing we're going to be doing.'

He finished his cake and glanced about him, as if preparing to go. Henrietta knew quite certainly that she would be desolate when he left but could think of no way to prevent it. It wasn't only because he was so attractive, with his thatch of fair hair and his easy friendliness; there was more to it than that. There was some quality she recognized and was drawn to, though she couldn't quite define it. She trailed after him as he picked up the books and carried them out to his car, the dogs following hopefully. He stood for a moment, the car door open, neither of them knowing quite what to say.

‘Come again when you've got more time,' she said suddenly. ‘We could go to the pub or take the dogs for a walk or something.'

‘I'd like that. Wait a minute.' He took out his wallet and extracted a card. ‘I'll telephone next time I'm going to Bristol but my mobile number is on this, and my home number.'

He gave her the card, hesitated as if uncertain how to say goodbye, then got into the car. She waved him off and then studied the card, which had the words ‘Keep Organics' printed on it. Juno and Pan stared despondently after him and the puppy whined miserably.

‘I know,' said Henrietta. ‘I didn't want him to go, either. Never mind. We'll go out in a minute but I must clear up and put the cake away first.'

It was much later when she rang her mother's mobile.

‘You were right. It was Jo Chadwick.' Henrietta paused. Her mother's voice was muffled, as if she were laughing, and there was the sound of a glass clinking. ‘Is there someone there?'

‘A couple of friends have dropped in for a drink. So it was Jo. Nice, isn't he? Did you like him?'

‘Yes.' Henrietta didn't want to talk about how she felt: it was private. ‘Yes, he's very nice. Anyway, I won't talk now if you've got friends there.'

‘Never mind them. Did Jo stay for supper?'

‘No, no, he didn't. Look, I'm going to have a shower and wash my hair. You know how long it takes to dry. Talk tomorrow? 'Bye for now.'

She switched off and fiddled with a strand of clean, shiny hair; she felt guilty at her abruptness but she didn't want to discuss Jo with anyone, especially not with her mother. Familiar emotions of anxiety and resentment threatened to spoil new, happy sensations and she shrugged them away, concentrating on Jo: the way he'd laughed, his face bright with delight, and the way he'd immediately understood about Susan and Iain. She wished he'd stayed but she could understand his caution. She lugged Tacker up on to the sofa beside her and cuddled him.

‘I like him,' she murmured to him, and he licked her cheek. ‘I really like him.'

 

‘I think she likes him,' Cordelia said. ‘Well, she would, wouldn't she? He's a darling.'

‘Why did I have to be a couple of friends? Isn't one enough?'

‘Certainly not,' she answered. ‘Safety in numbers.'

‘One day she's going to find us out. Especially now I've moved down. Wouldn't it be wiser to tell her? After all, what harm could it do now?'

‘No, no.' Cordelia shook her head. ‘Not yet…it's too soon.'

He pulled her close against him and she slid her arms around him, head against his heart, holding him tightly.